


Existence

by Children_of_the_Shadows



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-22 00:44:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2488160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Children_of_the_Shadows/pseuds/Children_of_the_Shadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius isn't mad. He's insane and it's gotten worse since Remus was brought in the picture. Now, James doesn't know who to save, as they spiral into darkness. But what James doesn't understand is, they don't need to be saved. They just need each other...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Amber Heat

* * *

_There is never an end to James's worries. He thinks Sirius needs help, and Sirius does. But not the kind James brings him; not another doctor. Another one with her stiff hair and stony expression. Another one with too many questions and not a single answer._

_Why is Sirius like this?_

_Why? Why? Why?_

_Can you figure it out, doctor? Can you tell what's wrong? Can you?_

' _ **Do you masturbate, Sirius?'**_

_Sirius stares at the ceiling stonily. 'Sometimes. When I feel like it…'_

' _ **What do you think about? Can you tell me?'**_

' _Nothing really,' Sirius shrugs. He doesn't look at her because she doesn't look at him. No, that's not right. She looks, but she never sees. 'It's mechanical mostly. Sometimes there are eyes.'_

' _ **Eyes? Whose eyes? Is it someone you know?'**_

_Sirius blinks when spots begin to appear in his vision from staring too hard. 'They're beautiful eyes,' he explains, closing his eyes as he relives the vision again. 'Like ambers gems.' He feels his breath getting shallow, heat coursing through him. 'Like fire from the very depths of hell.'_

' _ **Do you like being watched, Sirius?'**_

_Sirius feels beads of sweat trickling down his spine and blood pounding in his ears. 'Only if they're amber eyes. Only if they're the ones I want.'_

' _ **Do you know what colour amber is?'**_

_Sirius doesn't answer. He knows, but he's too far gone to humour her. He wants those eyes that gaze so fierce upon him. He wants that darkness, and he wants that fire that scorches the shadows in his soul. He wants to burn._

' _ **Humans don't have amber eyes, Sirius. It's impossible.'**_

' _Maybe they're not human,' Sirius chuckles, then bursts out laughing._

* * *

James breathed in deeply and smiled. 'Nothing like the smell of fresh popcorn to lift the mood! How long has it been since we've come to a carnival? We should play some games before going in.'

'Not interested,' Sirius replied, brushing back his hair with his fingers. It had been raining all morning and the Floos had been jammed because of bad weather and traffic. They'd gotten caught in the rain, and multiple drying charms later, Sirius's hair was still wet. No amount of popcorn could lift the post-rain chill and the dark clouds looming overhead, despite it only being three in the afternoon. 'Let's just get this over with.'

James sighed with disappointment. 'You know, Sirius; when we were younger, you'd always be the first to jump into puddles and crash into the Fortune Teller's tent.' James smiled sadly. 'How things have changed, eh? No one would believe you're Sirius Black, if I ever told them. They'd all wonder what happened…'

Sirius shrugged, pulling the hood of his cloak over his head to keep the wind out of his ears. 'You wonder yourself, don't you?' Sirius laughed bitterly when James kept silent. 'I've already told you, but you ask again and again. Is the truth so hard to handle?' James's silence grew heavier, inducing manic laughter from Sirius. 'The war's over, Jamie-boy, and fighting and killing was the only thing I knew since the very beginning. Now that we have peace again, I've lost the meaning of my existence.'

James's gaze was fixed on the giant Ferris wheel, slowly lighting up, panel by panel. 'It really hurts when you talk like that, Sirius.' Stuffing his hands in his pockets, James turned slowly to look at Sirius. 'I've told you this before, but we'll always be brothers and you will always have a place with us. I want-'

'Masters Potter and Black!'

'Fallon,' James greeted with a firm handshake.

'So glad yeh could come. I hope you've enjoyed what you've seen so far,' Fallon smiled, revealing three missing teeth. He looked more like a clown than the owner of the carnival, with his bright orange bow tie and yellow suit. Sirius assumed he was being formal, given that this was a business meeting. Despite appearances and s strong cockney accent, Fallon had, what many would describe as, a  _silver tongue._ 'We're havin' new 'dditions this year and as yeh can see, 'spite the weather, we already have a good crowd pilin'.' He led Sirius and James towards a darker area, away from all the brightly lit rides and games. 'We've been comin' to London for a while now, and we're hopin' to settle, wit' yer help. A travellin' circus is all fun an' games till yeh reach a certain age, yeh know?'

'Are you planning to murder us in a dark alley, Fallon,' James joked, as they took a right turn, away from the trailers and closer to the row of larger tents. Unlike most carnival tents and trailers, these tents weren't brightly coloured and seemed darkened by the very aura surrounding it. There was a horrid smell of carcass and faeces permeating the air around them; not strong enough to choke on but lingering like bad breath.

'I'm takin' yeh to our newest section, Master Potter,' Fallon explained, 'we haven' opened it yet to the public, but we're hopin' yer kind donation will put us through with wha' we need to manage this place. Yeh see, we found a long time ago, that our audiences look for a thrill. Somethin' that will make their 'earts stop and their 'drenaline rush. That's why we decided this year would be special. This year, we would push the boundaries and bring them this!'

Sirius's breath caught as Fallon pulled back the tent.

Beasts. Scores of them in tank and cages; and Sirius finally understood why it smelled so vile in here. They were stashed together, invading each other's territory, with barely enough space to keep them from clawing each other bloody through the bars. It was like being in a mad house, surrounded by angry screeching, deafening beast calls and whimpers. Many of the beasts here were ones Sirius had only ever seen in textbook, and had a feeling were endangered and protected by the Ministry. Most of them, Sirius knew, were not residents of London, or even England for the matter.

'We've gathered 'em in our travels over the years,' Fallon said, surveying the tent with pride. 'Our dragons had to be kept separately, o'course. It's a terror tryin' to restrain 'em. As yeh can see, each beast has been enclosed in cages made 'specially for 'em. We take safety very seriously and-'

'There are bloody humans in here!' James yelled, pointing out to the cages at the end. Sirius quickly followed James, and sure enough, there were humans. Lined up in two isolated cages and dressed too threadbare for the cold. 'What is the meaning of this?'

'Don' be alarmed, sirs,' Fallon laughed. 'Appearances are deceiving. These beasts may look human, but they're one of 'em most vicious creatures we have; these werewolves.'

Sirius stared. He had never seen werewolves before. Two of them, a female and a male, were kept in one of the cages. A family or a couple, Sirius figured, from the way they were huddled together. The other cage hosted only one beast, smaller than the other two and seemingly weaker. His face was hidden underneath a bush of overgrown hair and beard, a thin film of wool over his flimsy body. He was huddled onto himself; and like the pair in the other cage, Sirius noticed that he, too, kept away from the corners.

'The bars are made of pure silver, yeh see,' Fallon went on. 'A werewolf's strength is unimaginable. Even the female over there is able to snap metal bars when transformed. But silver, it burns 'em like fire. It took us some time to…'

Sirius wondered if Fallon was even remotely aware of the growing disgust of James's face. Not that James had much say in the final decision; he needed Sirius's consent. Sirius tuned out Fallon and watched curiously as one of the caretakers approached the younger beast's cage with a large hose. He was waving his wand around the mouth of the hose, muttering what was definitely a spell, though Sirius couldn't quite read which one. With practiced ease, once done, the caretaker turned the hose and a strong blast of water gushed out, stray droplets flying to Sirius's face and catching him by surprise.

'What the fuck are you doing?' James yelled over the sound of the water. 'What the fuck? Turn it off right now!'

'Calm down, Master Potter! It's just bein' cleaned; it's standard procedure.'

The full force of the water was hitting the beast, forcing him to uncurl from his earlier fetal position and fall on his stomach. His light brown hair flew to the front, as his muscles spasmed from the struggle of getting up. He seemed used to this, Sirius thought, as he fought the water torrents and pushed himself up forcibly.

'I asked you to stop it! Right now!' The water stopped almost instantly, as an astonished caretaker and Fallon stared at James. 'What the fuck is this? What the fuck do you think are you doing?' James growled, stashing his wand into his pocket. 'How can you just fucking watch while this-'

'Yer confusin' yer emotions with what yeh see, Master Potter,' Fallon interrupted, signaling the caretaker to leave. 'Remember these are beasts that yeh see, and not humans. Beasts that could rip out yer throat without batting an eyelid; 'specially this one. This one is the most unpredictable. We've yet to train it to even eat when given food. It lashes out to anyone that even comes close, and we're even plannin' to put it down. So hold yer sympathy, sir! I assure yeh…'

Sirius stared at the beast in the cage, as he caught his breath. He was hypnotising in ways Sirius couldn't explain, but had Sirius moving dangerously close to the cage. Surprisingly, the beast paid him no mind, moving back his wet hair out his face in a swift, almost animalistic motion. It was when the beast finally opened his eyes that Sirius's heart skipped a beat.

Amber.  _Like heat._

'I want him,' Sirius whispered, feeling the blood pounding in his ears.

'What?'

Sirius turned to James. 'I want him sent to Grimmauld Place by tonight. Sign the contracts and acquire any other legal documents necessary, but I want him.'

Both Fallon and James stared at him in shock. 'Sirius, are you out of your fucking mind? Do you want to die that bad? Didn't you hear Fallon? This one's is unpredictable and dangerous!'

Sirius raised an eyebrow, feeling suddenly irritable. 'This is Fallon's present to me, as a thank you for not reporting him to the Ministry.' Sirius smirked to himself, as he ran a hand down a single silver bar. 'Remember this Fallon, not all us purebloods have fallen to the same level of corruption. Did you honestly think I was going to partake in something like this?' Sirius laughed, hood slipping off as his head fell back from mirth. He looked at the beast one last time before turning to Fallon. 'Don't belittle me.'

_I've found you._

* * *

 


	2. Silver Burns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius isn't mad. He's insane and it's gotten worse since Remus was brought in the picture. Now, James doesn't know who to save, as they spiral into darkness. But what James doesn't understand is, they don't need to be saved. They just need each other...

* * *

_There are spots on the ceiling that Sirius can never decipher. He lies in this couch every session and stares at them. He stares at the black spots that look suspiciously like shoe marks and green ones that Sirius wonders if they're mold. There are white crusty ones that can be a result of a bad paint job or a very badly aimed ejaculation. Sirius tries to think of reasons why these spots are there, since there isn't much else that he is doing in this mundane office. The doctor asks questions out of a paper as if she's reciting a poem and Sirius answers mechanically, without thinking._

' _ **If there was something you hated, Sirius. Something you hated with all your might; what would that be?'**_

_Sirius frowns and tilts his head. 'Women.'_

' _ **Can you tell me why?'**_

' _You're a doctor, aren't you? You tell me. Or did you not do your homework on me? It's written there, isn't it; in that big file of yours?' Sirius bites back. He doesn't like talking about what he hates. It brings back memories and resurfaces the spite he tries to control so helplessly. The hate within him is immense and when he talks, he feels consumed by it. 'You think I can even stand to look at women after going through everything my mother and my bloody cousins did. You think I can stand to look at the sole reason the world is in chaos today and my world has sunk lower into shit that any fucking shoe will ever go. Don't fuck with me, Doctor.'_

' _ **I read your file. Will you tell me about your mother? What was she like?'**_

_Sirius laughs, tears pooling in his eyes. 'Come to the manor and I'll show you.' His mother. Oh, his mother; his mother. How he loves her and how he hates her. He goes to her gravesite every year during her death anniversary and he talks to her. He tells her everything he's done and all the decisions he's made, half expecting her to wake up and yell at him. He thinks she is the kind of woman who would awake from her grave; a real witch and monster. Something as insignificant as death will never slow her down 'She's stuck herself into a fucking portrait on the wall and everyday she screams. She screams and screams and screams and tells me what a miserable fucking son I am.' Sirius smiles, as he realises that he must go back home after this and listen to her again. 'You know what's funny, Doctor, I can even hear her in your office. It's like she's following me. I think, if she ever stopped, I would go mad. Do you think I'm insane, Doctor?'_

' _ **What about your cousins?'**_

' _I killed them.' Sirius bursts into peals of laughter this time. His throat is hoarse and his eyes itch, but he laughs anyway. He laughs because he finds that revenge is truly sweet, and even though Bella's screams sometimes echo in his head, it is utterly satisfying. 'They killed my family, so I killed them. It was the best fucking day of my life.'_

' _ **What about your likes, Sirius? What makes you happy?'**_

_Sirius stops laughing, as he finds himself surrounded by painful silence._

* * *

James apparated beside Sirius, nearly tripping over his own feet and losing the piles of files he'd decided to take home yet again. Sirius figured it was good to have James around. He was someone Sirius trusted and knew would put up with anything Sirius did. Despite his looks and childish behaviour, James was extremely intelligent when time required to be and had brilliant critique. The only thing Sirius did not appreciate about James was his blatant intrusion into Sirius's life and his forceful opinions on every decision Sirius made.

'I just can't fucking believe you, Sirius! Honestly, if you wanted a bloody pet, I would have gotten you a dog or something.'

Sirius sighed and unlocked the front door to the house. 'He's not a pet.' On cue, his mother's portrait started screeching obscenities, as Sirius's welcome to the house. Sirius had practically memorised her swears by now and greeted her calmly, as he passed on his coat to his house elf, Kreacher.

'Then what?' James asked, angrily, bringing his face far too close to Sirius's for comfort. 'Is it your sick way of committing suicide? Do you want to set him on someone to settle your personal vendetta? What, Sirius?'

Sirius shrugged and smiled mysteriously. 'I didn't ask you to come and inspect me.'

James grit his teeth. 'No, you didn't. I should have just left you alone to die, but I'm a fool; I can't help it. I can't exactly leave you alone with a bloodthirsty beast, an unpredictable one, nonetheless.' James ran a nervous hand through his hair, ruffling the back to make it stand, out of old habit. 'Merlin, what am I doing here? What if I die instead of you? My son will be fatherless.'

Sirius ignored him and walked towards the study. 'Kreacher, has our guest arrived yet?'

'Yes, Master,' Kreacher replied, walking quickly to keep pace with Sirius's long strides. He was an old elf, serving Sirius mostly out of ingrained loyalty to the Black family and his attachment to Sirius's younger brother, Regulus. He was going senile and often murmured under his breath for hours at a time, but Sirius had learned to ignore it a long time ago. He was concerned by the outcome of the elf's work, not his personality. 'It refuses to eats anything Kreacher gives, Master. Snarls, it does, and throws its food. Horrid, frightening creature.'

Sirius smiled to himself. Clearly pleased, he patted Kreacher's head reassuringly. 'Now, Kreacher, we need to get used to him. He's a new addition to our house. Why don't you go prepare dinner in the meantime?' Sirius glanced sideways towards James, who was grumpily and reluctantly following them to the study. 'It seems Master Potter will be staying with us for a while. I'll make sure to see to our new guest.'

Sirius opened the door, relishing in the sight of the bright silver cage that had previously been sitting in a damp carnival tent. He had him; this beautiful creature with fiery amber eyes and the heat that could scorch one's skin until it peeled. Sirius had him in his study, right within his grasp. The werewolf was sitting in the centre of the cage, his knees drawn to his chest and shaggy hair overpowering his entire frame. When Sirius purposefully shut the door loudly, it looked up and Sirius saw it; that expression that his entire being craved for.

'There's still time, Sirius,' James warned from behind, as they walked closer to the cage. 'Just say the word and I'll have him shipped back to the carnival or wherever it is he comes from. This isn't funny anymore.'

James stood still as Sirius circled the cage, inspecting the creature from every angle. The sensation of being watched for his every move sent adrenaline pumping through Sirius's veins, and he purposefully ventured closer and closer until his clothes were brushing threateningly against the bars.

'It could really hurt you, Sirius, and I don't like the look of this one, one bit,' James jittered on, moving his feet from side to side warily. 'If you want a werewolf so badly, we could get the other ones. Fuck, I'll tape ears and a tail to some wino on the street and present it to you. You-'

Sirius stood up and held out his hands. 'James, the papers, if you please?'

James grimaced. 'Fuck, why do I even bother talking sense into you?' He put down his files on the table and started shuffling around angrily. 'You stopped listening to me after school. Oh-' Something packaged in red fell out of James's pocket to the ground.

Sirius immediately noted the way the werewolf's eyes followed it and how his gaze lingered for a split second before turning away. 'What is that?' Sirius asked, watching for any other unexpected movements from the creature. 'The thing that just fell out: what is it?'

James raised an eyebrow. 'It's just chocolate. I usually keep some in my pocket for Harry. Would you like some, and- okaaayy…' James sighed exasperatedly as Sirius snatched the chocolate bar out of his hands and inspected it. 'You're welcome. Always here to cater to your sweet tooth. Oi, Sirius; what are you doing?'

'Testing out a theory,' Sirius grinned, pulling out his wand and casting an unlocking charm. The silver door creaked open noisily, as if unused for centuries. Sirius started unwrapping the chocolate as he entered the cage, making sure the door closed securely behind him. Casting a quick spell on the door to shut it tight again, Sirius slowly moved closer to the creature.

'Sirius, get out this instant! Are you absolutely off your rockers?' James rushed to the bar, rattling the cage loudly. 'You're going to die. Sirius!'

Sirius ignored James. He was surprised the creature hadn't pounced yet, nor did it move a single muscle, as Sirius inched closer on his knees. He was watching Sirius intensely, following the way his fingers broke off a piece of the chocolate and placed it on the floor. It was odd for a creature, considered a lower category than humans, to look someone so boldly in the eye, as if challenging Sirius to make a wrong move. No, it was as if he was warning Sirius not to come any closer; not to step beyond the boundaries the werewolf was already granting him.

Sirius slid the piece of chocolate closer to him.

' _Sirius, get out!'_

Sirius was caught by surprise when the werewolf glared at him and flung the chocolate away with the back of his hand. There was no doubt that the creature wanted it; it had to be hungry after spending an entire day refusing food. He didn't look weak, but his ribs looked tattooed underneath his skin and his eyes hollowed and veined. Sirius remembered Fallon mentioning issues with feeding the werewolf; yet, he felt it was something beyond as simplistic as hunger and survival.

' _Sirius, god damn it, you bloody git! This is dangerous!'_

Curiously, Sirius broke off another piece; this time, holding it out in his hand as an offering. Slowly, he scooted closer, making sure not to make any sudden movements that could cause him to lose a limb. The creature watched him, muscles tensing and feet adjusting as if readying himself to spring. When Sirius was only inches away, the werewolf relaxed slightly, but continued his surveillance of Sirius. A slight hesitant twitch, and then he reached out for Sirius's proffered chocolate, sniffing it slightly before pushing the whole thing into his mouth.

Sirius laughed.  _Pride,_  he realised, with a twisted sort of fascination. Demoralised and reduced to something lower than an animal, but the creature still had its pride. A pride that reigned over his need for survival; a pride that the creature protected more than its own life. It was enchanting and captivating in every single way; this unadulterated and single minded need to preserve and showcase its pride.

'Sirius, you're getting too fucking close,' James yelled, clearly panicking as he paced around the cage with his wand at pinpoint. 'Get out. Get out or I swear, I'll pull my wand against it! Sirius!'

Sirius was delirious.  _Toy with it. Shatter it. Break it until it's irreparable. This life, this being, this pride; you're mine to do with what I please. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine…._

'Sirius, step the fuck out of the cage. Look at his eyes. He's going to-'

Sirius was still laughing, as the creature attacked him suddenly, pushing him forcefully onto the ground. There was a dull thud where Sirius hit his back against the hard metal of the cage: the only place not coated with silver. He was snarling into Sirius's face threateningly, eyes swirling with flecks of gold, amber, and blood red at the same time. Eyes that were frighteningly insightful as they bore into Sirius's and carved through every thought.

_Mine. Mine. Mine to control. Mine Mine. Mine to seize. Mine. Mine. Mine to throw away. Mine. Mine…._

The creature's growl grew fiercer and Sirius felt the first indications of its strength, where his fingers dug into the gaps between each of Sirius's ribs painfully. The more Sirius thought about the werewolf, the deeper the fingers pressed; to a point Sirius's vision had gone entirely black and his neurons screamed from agony. Adrenaline was rushing into his body, his arms were begging to be used to fight back, to move and be rid of the pain. Groans escaped his lips to orchestrate the cracking of his ribs, and the back of Sirius's mind realised that they were not moans of pain.

His cock was painfully hard.

_Mine. Mine. Mine. I'll own you…._

'Don't you dare, James,' Sirius choked out, reading his friend's movements, even through pure blindness. 'Don't you dare raise your wand against him.' He felt blood regurgitating behind his throat, making his laughter come out in indecent gurgles. Sirius coughed and raised a shaky hand to the creature's head and stroked the rough mane of hair gently. 'He's  _mine_.'

The fingers on his ribs loosen momentarily, surprised by the touch. Sirius used the moment of confusion to heal his wounds and breathe, still laying on the ground on his back. The pain was gone entirely, but the tangy taste of blood and stale smell of the creature's breath remained. Sirius closed his eyes and took in huge gulps of air.

'Merlin, Sirius, are you alright? Fuck, I'm unlocking the…'

As soon as Sirius's body had regained control of itself, Sirius sprung; taking the werewolf by surprise as he pushed him back and pinned both the werewolf's hands to the silver bars. Immediately, the wretched smell of burning flesh and a piercing scream filled the air. Sirius fed off on it, pushing the creature's palms flat onto the surface.  _Fall,_  the voices in his head cried, muffling James's screams on the outside.  _Fall!_ The screams grew louder, transforming into howls of pain, as Sirius pushed the werewolf's wrists to make contact with the bars.  _Fall!_  A single tear rolled down the creature's right eye and Sirius finally let go.

'Don't defy me, love,' Sirius whispered cockily, getting up and brushing off his clothes. He had a feeling the werewolf didn't hear him, since he had fainted almost immediately after Sirius had let go, burned hands falling to the side. Yet, he was sure the point had been sent across, as he stepped out of the cage and locked it.

'You fucking crazy bastard!' James screamed, pushing Sirius roughly at the shoulders. 'You motherfucking crazy bastard! You didn't have to go that far! It's a living being, for fuck's sake!' James ran to the side of the cage, a worried wand ready at his fingertips.

'Don't heal him, Jamie-boy,' Sirius advised and wasn't the least bit surprised that James heeded to him. James had never been like that when they were in school; he had been the first to reprimand Sirius and have him follow the conventional way of doing things. But that had been in the past; before the war and long before James suspected Sirius was too unstable to argue against anymore. James was right. 'He needs to remember this as his first lesson, so let him be as he is. He'll heal as he learns.'

James threw him a disgusted look and tucked his wand back into his pocket. 'I've had it with you. I've really, honestly, just  _had it_  with your fucking sick ways of doing things. Fuck you!' James threw on his coat and picked up his briefcase, throwing a single red folder at Sirius's chest. 'Here are your bloody papers! I hope the two of you rot in your own personal hell! Don't call me if you get killed!'

The door slammed shut behind James.

Sirius smiled, unperturbed and summoned his house elf. 'Kreacher, I want you to replace all our silverware. Wood, steel, whatever it is you fancy; but I want all our silverware gone. Also, from here forth, our guest will eat whatever I eat, so please look to that.' Sirius paid no mind to the dissatisfaction of Kreacher's face. 'That will be all, Kreacher. You may go.'

Sirius ran his hands across the silver bars of the cage, surveying the unconscious werewolf with a smile on his face. He was giddy from the sight alone, but the thought of the days to come with such a beautiful creature was what had him truly excited to the point where he was practically skipping on the balls of his feet.

_Mine._

* * *

'Remus.'

The werewolf's eyes snapped open to look at Sirius.

'That's your name, isn't it?' Sirius asked, striding casually towards the cage and unlocking it. 'Remus Lupin. How long has it been since someone's called you by your name?' Sirius smiled and walked in, kneeling before the werewolf; no, Remus. He wasn't looking at Sirius anymore, closing his eyes pridefully and turning the other way. 'It's quite interesting, really. I was reading up on your papers. Looks like you've been shuffled around a lot; households, circuses, carnivals, and what do you know; you were even part of the war, weren't you?' Sirius smirked when he noticed a sudden tenseness in Remus's shoulder. 'Did Voldemort call you by name, as well?'

Sirius well expected the silent response. He savoured the way the creature…no, Remus, held his head slightly high and pursed his lips in annoyance. 'You understand me, don't you?' Sirius ran a slow hand down Remus's back, his fingers playing over every bump in his spinal cord. 'You can fool a lot of people by staying mute and acting like an animal, but your eyes give it away. Those lovely amber eyes.' Sirius leaned forward and kissed underneath Remus's right eye.

He laughed when Remus snarled and pulled away. Sirius knew perfectly well that Remus would have attacked again if he could, but the way he held his palms straight and his hand rigid were indications that the burns were causing him much more pain than he was revealing.

'Kreacher told me you ate all your lunch. I'm pleased.' Sirius brushes the back of his fingers against Remus's cheek, moving away just in time to avoid Remus biting off his fingers. They were human teeth: blunt and straight and not particularly clean, but the canines were sharp, as if adaptive to Remus's werewolf alter ego. 'Here I was thinking you were going to behave yourself and I would have to avoid causing you too much pain. Such a pity.'

Remus's eyes widened, but before he could even move, Sirius had already whispered a silent spell, causing the werewolf to slump into Sirius's arms. 'Brilliant, isn't it?' he grins, healing the burns on Remus's hands. 'It isn't an actual body bind, but functions just like one. You see, right now, every single connection between your body and brain has been disabled. You are paralysed to nothing short of a rag doll.' Sirius gathered Remus's limbs, hooking an arm underneath his knees and pulling him up. 'I created this spell myself when I was twelve, through a mixture of Dark Arts. My mother was very proud.' Sirius takes a turn to the left, where he had instructed for creature to prepare the bath and required clothing. 'It's stronger than any restrictive spell, but I would have probably had a hard time with it had you been in your other form.'

Sirius pulled out his wand and in a swift motion, stripped Remus of what little clothing he had. They weren't anything respectable to begin with, failing even to cover the bare necessities. Sirius couldn't even fathom how old they were or what colour or form they'd been originally. Possibly, they could have just been potato sacks cut apart to fill a person.

The bath, as instructed, had been prepared, steam rising from the hot water that rippled oddly. Gently, Sirius lowered Remus into the tub, feeling the heat scalding his skin where his fingers just brushed the water surface. The water had been made too hot; Sirius could tell this from the way Remus's skin turned red, seconds after he'd been dipped inside.

Shrugging, Sirius summons his razor from the cabinet. 'There is an important rule that you must remember while you live in this house, Remus. Here, you are devoid of a category.' Sirius pulled back Remus's coarse brown hair and started the razor from the very roots of his scalp. 'You are a werewolf, but you are not a beast. You are not human either.' Chunks of dirty, untamable hair fell out as the razor move systematically to the back of Remus's head. 'Your identity is your name and the fact that you belong to me alone. Know this, you are  _mine_.' Sirius brushed his hands and put the razor back on the sink. He ran a hand across Remus's newly shaved head, before stripping down and joining the werewolf in the tab. The water burned in the sensitive places between his toes and neck. 'Your entire existence revolves around me, is confined by me.'

Sirius summoned the soap, dipping it into the water to create sufficient foam. 'I'll be frank with you; I don't like cages. They clash horribly with the décor and they belong in dungeons, not houses such as this.' Idly, he let his lathered hands wander, brushing across the sinewy muscles of Remus's arms and climbing up to his chest. Purposefully, he lingered at the nipples, dipping his fingers into the hollow of his collar bone and resisting the urge to bite down and leave a mark. 'I wish to let you out. Except for the full moons, I want to give you free reign to walk this house. This will be your privilege, given that you earn it.' Sirius's hands moved lower to the sides of Remus's thighs, carving down to the sensitive curve on the inside.

'Oh,' Sirius stopped, surprised as Remus's shoulders twitched restrictively. 'You're trying to break through, are you?' Sirius chuckles, hands tightening around Remus's thighs as he whispers into the werewolf's ear, 'Don't worry. I won't do anything to you  _yet_.' Sirius broke out into manic peals of laughter, head thrown back and soaking partway in the water. It's a thrill beyond comprehension for him; an excitement that he hadn't felt since the war. Even thinking about what was to come had his skin crawling with goose bumps. 'For now, you should dress well and rest.'

* * *

_Remus is shaking. He's shaking so hard that his body is rocking uncontrollably and he can't stop no matter how hard he tries. He stares at his hands for the longest time; stares at how his fingers flex as he concentrates his strength into them. Greyback tells him that this is what makes werewolves superior to humans. Humans need wands and flimsy spells to win a war and amplify their magic. Werewolves are born with an immense magical force, but the true art lies in how this magic can be concentrated to create brute strength. There are more things that Greyback says, but Remus can't understand them all and sometimes he is cowering too hard with fear to listen._

_All he knows is that he can shut it off if he wants to. He can make this strength disappear to the deepest recesses of his body and pretend he doesn't have to do this. But what is far scarier than anything else is the thought of Voldemort. Greyback says that Voldemort is always watching; that he knows and reads the minds and souls of every individual in the world. Those who disobey him will die, Greyback assures, and Remus is scared of dying more than anything else. He doesn't want to die. He doesn't ever want to die. He wants to go back home to his parents and go to the school that his dad talks about. He is supposed to get a letter next year._

' _Please…please don't…'_

_Remus stares at the woman. She isn't very strong because every hex she sends his way weakly bounce of him. It might be because she is just as afraid as he is or it might be because her wand is nearly split in the middle. She's backing away, her arms and legs scrabbling against the dirt to get away from Remus as he moves closer to her._

_He doesn't want to do this._

_Remus flexes his fingers again, drawing them up at the knuckles._

_But he doesn't want to die._

_Remus closes his eyes tightly and strikes._

Remus's hand swiped the air wildly, before he realised there was nothing there but dark emptiness. His eyes, already adjusted to the dark, swiveled around in panic while his mind tried to grasp the situation. He was no longer trapped in a dream, but yet the feeling of unfamiliarity lingered. The ground underneath him too soft and there was sweet smell of soap wafting from his surrounding, rather than the usual aroma of mould and ominous silver.

Remus was not in his cage.

He was a in a room, on an elevated arch of sorts.  _Bed,_  a distant part of his mind supplied.

 _Bed,_  Remus repeated in his head, trying to recall and understand its meaning. It was too high.

Carefully, Remus inched towards the edge of the bed and looked down. The floor has a dark brown covering, just like the bed, but when Remus tentatively reached out to touch it, it felt coarser and thicker. Keeping both hands on the floor, Remus slowly crawled out of the bed, throwing away the sheets that covered his body and tangled across his legs. The ground wasn't as cold as he expected it to be, nor as hard, but it felt better to be closer to it. He didn't want to get back up there: up on the  _bed_.

Where was he? If not in the cage, then where was he?

Remus looked around, taking in the walls, covered with intricate designs and etchings – black over a rich cream. They looked like the tattoos Remus remembered seeing on a woman, back at the carnival. Remus wondered if he was still in that man's house; the one's whose eyes looked like the ashes of dead remains and expressions resembled a manic desperation. This place seemed different: warmer, lighter, and slightly familiar. It did not exude the indifference and cruelty that seemed to have settled in the place Remus had been kept before. There were even pictures on the wall, though Remus couldn't clearly see them all in dark. They were mostly a blur of human shapes and white teeth of laughter.

There was a door, Remus realised suddenly, crawling forward. A door, which meant freedom.

Remus reached for the handle and pulled, but the door did not budge. It was locked, he realised; just like his cage. This place was like a cage without bars. Still, the lock felt flimsy underneath his hands. It felt breakable, so Remus concentrated on his strength and pulled hard. The door opened a sliver, bending on its hinges, before Remus abruptly let go – falling backwards in fear.

Dark. It was dark. Darker than he'd ever seen; like black flames licking the edges of the door frame.

Remus didn't want to go out anymore. He didn't want to go beyond the unfamiliar darkness that threatened to devour him. He moved back, sparing a glance at the bed. He didn't want to go to the bed either, in its high arches and softness that seemed to draw his whole body inwards into a chasm. He wanted…he wanted his cage. He wanted the cold hardness of the floor and the dangerous glint of the silver bars that kept the darkness away.

Remus crawled underneath the space in the bed and looked towards the door. It was partly broken now, revealing a small dark crack within the lighter darkness of the room. Remus didn't want to look. He didn't want to know the demons that came from in there, so he buried his face into the coarse floor and shut his eyes tightly. A soft whimper escaped him, and he bit his lips hard to muffle himself.

He wanted his cage.

Remus could hear sounds coming through the crack – creaks and dull thuds of footsteps moving around. A stale presence hovering near his shoulders and bright red eyes watching his from the darker shadows. It was too open, too vast; enough for shadows to hide and wander out of sight. If he looked, Remus knew that the hands would reach out for him. If he moved, they would grab him and burn him in a place worse than the scarring pain of silver.

Remus curled further into the ground, his hands clawing at the rough material underneath him. His blunt nails pulled painfully, as they scratched across the surface.

He wanted his cage.

* * *

 


	3. Black Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius isn't mad. He's insane and it's gotten worse since Remus was brought in the picture. Now, James doesn't know who to save, as they spiral into darkness. But what James doesn't understand is, they don't need to be saved. They just need each other...

* * *

_Sirius truly hates the clock on the wall. It is an old clock, made of wood that is cracking and chipping at the edges. The cheap gold paint that had been used to colour designs on the surface is now a moldy and faded yellow that reminds Sirius of puke. But the truly worst thing about this hateful clock is its noise. It is incessantly loud and every tick on every second and every tock on every minute resounds in Sirius's head like an irritating echo. This woman, this doctor, she talks and talks and asks mindless questions; but even her voice isn't enough to drown the sounds of the clock. It is irritating. It is extremely irritating._

' _ **Will you tell me about your school days, Sirius? What were you like as a child?'**_

' _Smaller,' Sirius says brusquely, finding his mood growing worse every time the second hand of the clock shifts._

' _ **Can you elaborate your statement for me?'**_

_Sirius sighed exasperatedly, but relented, 'I liked school. I liked learning things that Mother didn't let the home tutor teach. I liked James.'_

' _ **Did you like him romantically?'**_

_For a moment, Sirius's attention is diverted from the clock, as he breaks into peals of laughter. The doctor waits patiently for him to finish, but the statement is so ridiculous that every time Sirius stops, he starts again. 'Everyone else liked him romantically. I liked him because he was the most fearless bloke I'd ever met. He didn't care about the rules or being a pureblood. Back then, he cared for fun.'_

' _ **What is "fun", Sirius? Can you define what "fun" was for you back then?'**_

' _Pranks,' Sirius says simply. 'We would flood the school, annoy the ghosts, put rats in the girls' cupboard; anything for a laugh.' Sirius smiles as he remembers the days he spent back in school. The days that weren't like these: when he didn't have to sit in this ridiculous chair and listen to this irritating clock tick on. 'There was this boy we disliked that we played the most pranks on: Severus Snape. We called him Snivellus.' Sirius snorts, laughter bubbling to the surface. There were many names for that boy: greasy git, stink-face; but Snivellus was the one Sirius still liked best._

' _ **Why did you hate him?'**_

_Sirius frowns at her. 'I didn't. James did because he liked James' girl. I just wanted to have fun…'_

' _ **Did you?'**_

_Sirius shrugs. 'Sometimes. Sometimes James was a bit of a prat. He always had this "limit" because he thought if we went further, it was inhumane and unethical. I would tell him, fun had no limits. The concept of fun is that because you don't think, you have fun.' Sirius tilts his head and looks at her. 'Fun is a feeling, not a thinking.'_

' _ **Can you tell me about this limitless fun? Tell me about one of your pranks that James didn't approve of.'**_

_Sirius doesn't mind telling her, if she understands the concept. Thinking, Sirius also realises, keeps his mind off the clock and that is a bit of a relief. 'Snivellus was a very odd bloke. He followed us a lot, trying to figure out ways we did things, our secrets and passages; a lot of the times, he looked for ways to rat us out or deliberately put us into trouble.' Sirius closes his eyes and lays back. 'There used to be this tree in our school called the Whomping Willow. Everyone said it had been planted in the memory of someone Dumbledore knew or some student who had died. Something of that sort; I'm not quite sure. But it shred anyone who came near it to pieces. Except there was a trick that only James and I knew. So, I told Snivellus, since he was so curious about it. Well, I pretended to.' Sirius laughs, as he remembers Snape's face. In his memory, he still keeps it as the best prank he has ever played and perhaps the funniest. ' I did it because he deserved it, but when James found out, he was furious. He actually saved the bastard he hated. It just made things complicated.'_

' _ **What do you mean by complicated, Sirius?'**_

' _To make complex, intricate, involved, or difficult.' Sirius chuckles to himself. 'Mother always taught us never waste a moment idle, so when she locked me in the library for a week as punishment, I learned quite a bit of the dictionary. It was fun.' Sirius flexed his fingers idly. 'Sometimes, I used words she wouldn't understand to annoy her. There were words that thought me how to create new spells that made Mother proud. She would always smile when I showed her and you could tell she was happy if she showed her gold tooth at the back.'_

' _ **You didn't answer my question, Sirius.'**_

_Sirius rolls his eyes. 'A prank is a prank. Some people deserve it and others don't. James didn't understand that, but Snivellus did.' Sirius unbuttons the bottom four buttons of his shirt, revealing a scar that starts from his lower ribs and travels beyond the waist of his trousers. It isn't a painful scar, not anymore anyway; simply raised tissue. But back then, the medi-witch had had a hard time making it stop bleeding. 'Snivellus understood that people are only hindered by the limits they set; morals, ethics, humanity. It's not important. A prank is just a prank.'_

' _ **A prank sounds quite a bit like revenge. Is there a difference?'**_

_Sirius laughs. 'Revenge is much sweeter.'_

* * *

'FUCK!' Sirius cursed over the sounds of violent retching coming from the bathroom. 'Damn it!' Sirius slammed the study door shut angrily and fell backwards into the couch. This wasn't how he had planned it; this wasn't what he wanted. It was annoying; this lack of control and total submission on Remus's part. It played on Sirius's nerves how Remus defied every word that came out of Sirius mouth and every filthy thought that passed through Sirius's mind. It irritated him and excited him, this rebellious nature, but only when he had control. Only when the rebellion went according to his wishes.

Three days had passed since Sirius had taken Remus out of his cage; and every single morning since then, Sirius opened the door to find Remus lying wide awake under the bed. Always under the bed; always awake and vigilant, despite the utter lack of sleep; and always wary of Sirius. In fact, every time, Sirius had tried to coax him out, he had been subject to violent outbursts leading to a dislocated arm, two broken ribs, and several cuts which Sirius had to heal by himself. The bruises remained as an unattractive addition to Sirius's face and arms.

'Bend already,' Sirius growled, putting the ice pack over his face in vain hopes of calming the throbbing headache in the back of his skull. 'Bend to my will and let me fuck you over.' Sudden fits of coughing broke through behind the door, and Sirius snarled impatiently. Food; even a simple thing such as food was getting in the way. Remus was unused to eating regular meals or proper proportions of food. Most of what he ate was vomited out within half an hour of the meal, leaving Kreacher to nurse what Sirius saw as a weak and ruined creature. It was maddening. He didn't want this pathetic excuse of a person. He didn't want this weak body or these feeble attacks that came out of fear and desperation. He wanted amber eyes. He wanted fire and heat. He wanted to play...

' _Sirius, why did you join?'_

_Sirius looks at his younger brother through the mirror, sitting cross legged on the bed and looking at Sirius with an odd sort of curiousity. 'It's my duty as an heir,' Sirius answered, looking back down at his tie in disdain. 'I wished to make Mother proud.' Off late, Sirius's only reason to do anything is Mother's will. He reckons he once had a will of his own, but it was crushed the day he graduated Hogwarts. The answer he gives Regulus isn't entirely true. He has no desire to make Mother proud because he hates her. He hates her more than anything in this whole world, but he also wants her to love him because not many people do. Love can be unconditional in the Black lineage if earned. Sirius discovered early on that one cannot push the boundaries of love through disobedience._

' _I joined to make you proud.'_

_Sirius looks up, surprised at Regulus's answer. 'I've always been proud of you, Regulus, for many reasons before this. But don't give me precedence over Mother.'_

' _I don't care for her,' Regulus replies defiantly, arms crossing over his chest. Sirius remembers doing the same at that age; being rebellious and insolent. Yet somehow, he was never able to quite cross the line._

_Sirius sighs heavily and motions Regulus to come closer. 'Come here,' he says softly and waits for Regulus to stand face to chest with Sirius, before smacking his little brother in the back of his head. 'I didn't think I raised you to be such a fool,' Sirius chastises gently, chuckling as Regulus rubbed his head petulantly. 'Listen to me, Regulus, my fate as part of the Black house has already been decided, but you have the advantage of being younger. If there was something I wanted from you, it was for you to go to finish school and enjoy yourself as you are.'_

' _Don't treat me like a child,' Regulus snaps back. He stomps his feet childishly and Sirius finds himself thoroughly amused. Regulus is fifteen; four years younger than Sirius and a spitting image of his older brother. Yet, he is much smaller than Sirius remembers being at that age._

' _You're not an adult either,' Sirius replies smugly._

' _You don't have to be so harsh.'_

_Sirius laughs exasperatedly. 'Let me see your Dark Mark, Regulus.' Regulus looks at him curiously, but folds his sleeve to reveal the tattooed serpent on his arm. Just the way Regulus shows it so casually tells Sirius that Regulus doesn't really understand the seriousness of the situation he's in. Sirius suddenly has a feeling that Regulus did not join because he wanted to make Sirius proud, but because he was expected to, as a Black. The cycle of pressure, it seems, doesn't not stop with Sirius. 'This Mark governs your feelings, reads every single thought in your head, especially when you can't master Occlumency, but it cannot interfere with your actions. Do you understand that, Regulus? Think with your head, not with your heart.'_

_Regulus giggles. 'It's strange to hear you say that. You_ _**never** _ _think.'_

' _But I'm uncontrolled and unpredictable.' Sirius smiles and then becomes serious again. 'There are going to be innocent people that we are made to kill, but if you know how to shut down your thoughts, you don't have to. We learn Dark Arts as a necessity to survive in the Black household, but not in the real world.' Sirius pulls down Regulus's sleeve until the Dark Mark disappears behind cloth. 'Listen to me carefully; do not kill unless well deserved. Keep your head low and follow orders, but do not stoop to their level.'_

_Regulus nods._

' _Good.' Sirius pulls Regulus by the head and hugs him. Sirius has to bend down to rest his chin on his brother's head, but Regulus has always been small; conveniently hiding behind Sirius's back while tightly holding on the back of his robes. Sirius has nurtured him that way: to be completely dependent on him. Regulus's loyalty to Sirius will never waver, just as the fists clenching tightly to the back of his robes will never loosen._

* * *

'Master Sirius, Kreacher has readied it as you asked. It's sitting in the lounge, waitings for Master.'

Sirius opened his eyes and realised that he had fallen so deep into thought that he hadn't noticed the ice pack melting and dripping into his hair and clothes. 'That's fine, Kreacher. We won't be home until dinner, since we have a few places we need to visit.'

The house elf's eyes widened in surprise. 'But Master Sirius, it is being dangerous with that werew-'

Sirius dried his robes with a quick spell. 'Kreacher, don't talk back to me.'

Kreacher quickly clamped his mouth shut and bowed deeply. 'Kreacher is sorry and will punish himself properly.' Underneath his breath, he was muttering again, probably in disagreement, but Sirius ignored it, as he always did.

'That's not necessary,' Sirius replied uninterestedly. He walked out of the study, allowing Kreacher to help him with his coat. He could see Remus sitting in the lounge, as Kreacher mentioned, dressed in Sirius's unused muggle clothing. He and Sirius were roughly the same height, but the clothes hung on Remus's thin body in an unpleasant way. When Sirius stood right in front of him, Remus deliberately looked right through him, standing to get up only because he knew that's what he would be asked to do. It made Sirius smile, calming the irritation he'd had with the werewolf previously. Remus had taken a new form of defiance and fight: ignorance.

'Master Sirius,' Kreacher called, as they were leaving through the front door. 'If you is going to…will you…for Kreacher-'

Sirius nodded. 'I will pass on your regards, Kreacher. Is there anything else?'

Kreacher shook his head and bowed down deeply. When he got up, there was a slight smile on his crooked, sunken face.

Sirius pretended not to notice it, as he let the front door shut behind them. 'This is your first time outside like this, isn't it? Let me know if it's too overwhelming for you.' If he were to be honest, Sirius was hoping it  _would_ be too overwhelming for Remus. He wanted to see that panic and he wanted to see the backlash; he wanted to watch everything as Remus adjusted to the outside world. Mostly, he wanted to see if Remus would lose control. 'Ignoring my existence isn't going to make me ignore yours. It only makes me want to get your attention and using any means isn't beyond me, you should already know.'

Sirius chuckled at Remus's silence. In a way, he'd expected Remus to run away the minute they'd stepped out, but Remus had obediently stayed by Sirius's side and walked in stride. No, not obediently. Remus had already noticed Sirius's steady hand on his wand, within the pocket of his robes.  _Disappointing._ Sirius had even prepared a special hex for Remus, if he tried to leave.

'We'll be meeting some important people today,' Sirius carried on, even when he noticed Remus's eyes darting with wariness as the streets got more crowded. Remus's fists were clenching, his body tensing in defense, as if readying himself for an attack. 'I would apparate us there, but you would put up quite a struggle, wouldn't you? Nothing as horrible as getting splinched, I think. Besides, it's quite nearby.' Sirius purposefully swerved towards a more packed route; a street well saturated with men and women in business suits, all racing against time.

Sirius smirked as he saw Remus's body coiling inwards, tightening with awareness and discomfort, a vein on the side of his neck throbbing like a rabid heartbeat. He could see the dangerous swirl of amber in the werewolf's eyes, growing darker as if trying to burn pitch black. Those eyes regarded everyone with caution, but not caution borne out of fear. It was caution that came through raw power; Remus was seeing everyone as prey – an enemy he needed to kill. Sirius craved for Remus to look his way. Just once, just once, and Sirius would go on overdrive and lose control. His hands and knees were already trembling from excitement; every hair on his body standing on its ends in anticipation.

A man bumped into Remus, nearly knocking him over, and immediately, Remus sprung; teeth bared and hands clawed.

Sirius laughed and caught Remus by the collar of his shirt, pulling him back so forcefully that he fell to the pavement. 'Keep control of yourself,' Sirius chided halfheartedly. In all honesty, he wanted to see what happened. He wanted Remus to lose himself, but he didn't want it at the expense of an unassuming unknown. There was no fun in playing with a stranger. 'Hush,' Sirius replied back when Remus snarled angrily. 'Do you see all these people?'

Remus didn't look around, nor did he react to Sirius's question. Instead, he continued to glare at Sirius, his eyes now sparkling with rage.

'No, I don't see them either,' Sirius replied, placing a calming hand over Remus's head, 'but that is what we are meant to be. There is no place for individualism in this filthy city. Everyone looks the same, thinks the same, acts the same; they do exactly what is expected of them so much so that they all blend into mush. While we're out here, we're part of this mush, do you understand?'

Remus wasn't listening. He was looking up with an awe-filled expression and only when Sirius caught the sliver of light blue reflecting in Remus's eyes did he understand. 'You've never seen the open sky before.' Sirius kneeled down to Remus's level. It was odd in a way that Remus looked a lot like a child, sitting in the middle of the streets with his legs sprawled and a look of fascination on his face. 'There isn't much green here in this part of the city, mostly during this weather. But if you behave, I'll take you some place with much more sky than this. You'll be able to stare to your heart's content.' Sirius smiled when Remus finally looked down to Sirius's eye level. 'The idea appeals to you, I gather. Good.'

Remus allowed Sirius to stroke his cheek once, before pushing his hand away roughly.

'Come,' Sirius sighed, standing up. 'We're here. Should I welcome you perhaps? A warm greeting from St. Mungo's hospital. I hope your visit here is pleasurable,' Sirius barked loudly, stretching his arms wide and walking backwards in a mock welcoming gesture. The healers and medi-witches stared at him, but soon turned away when they recognised who he was, as was the norm. 'A very special person lives here, you know,' Sirius continued, walking up the aisle with practiced familiarity. Mungo's had almost become like a second home to Sirius. 'My baby brother. He's quite adorable, which is normal since he's the spitting image of me. He turned seventeen this year, but you can't tell. He hasn't grown an inch and he's quite sensitive about it, so don't bring it up.' Sirius stopped in front of Room 2034, pushing the door open. 'Wotcher, Regulus!'

Regulus breathed. Just like he always did when Sirius came to visit. Sometimes, when Regulus was feeling very pleased, there would be a hiccup in his breathing, where he would momentarily stop in his excitement and then would start again. Today, he was just breathing.

'Mr. Black, you're early today.' Healer John always had a tendency to know when Sirius came and often tailed him. He was a pudgy little man, with very little hair on the sides, large blue eyes, and a tendency to be very jittery at times. 'I was informed you'd be here at twelve.' Healer John glanced at Remus, who was standing stoically beside Sirius, nervously. Sirius wasn't sure why he was so frightened of Remus, even after Sirius had had him check up Remus's health twice now already. Despite Remus's severe aversion to human touch, he had even let the healer get away with only one hit to the gut.

'If we could step outside for a little chat alone, Healer, that would be lovely,' Sirius smiled obligingly.

Healer John looked at Remus's worriedly. 'I don't think that's wise, Mr. Black. I mean, leaving-'

'Remus will be fine with Regulus,' Sirius assured, already stepping outside. 'I think they should get acquainted with each other. No worries, Regulus is friendly that way. I think they'll take an instant shine to each other.'

Regulus's breathing skipped, his chest stopping dropping for a split second before rising again.

Healer John hesitated, then walked out, closing the door behind them. Sirius nodded appreciatively. 'I think Regulus should be taken out once in a while. He's gotten awfully pale; whiter than the sheets almost. Ah, but forget that,' Sirius continued distractedly. 'I need you to prescribe sleeping potions: the strongest you have. Remus is having a hard time coping with being outside his cage and he hasn't slept at all. It's actually a bit irritating.'

John bit his lip nervously. 'That's fine, Mr. Black, but about your brother…'

'The eating hasn't gotten much better either, but you did mention it would take time. A little at a time, I suppose.'

'Mr. Black, I'm asking you again about Regulus,' Healer John persisted, much to Sirius's chagrin. 'We really need you to make the final decision to let him go. It's cruel this way to him. He's not going to get better or even wake up anytime soon.'

Sirius grit his teeth. 'You just do your job and give Regulus his potions, Healer. I don't remember asking for your personal opinion or ethics.'

'Helping him to just breathe with all these potions doesn't guarantee his life, Mr. Black,' Healer John tried to explain desperately, as he always did. 'His body is decaying. As a Healer, it is painful for us to watch you put your brother through this on your own selfish whims. Other lives could be saved on that bed instead of trying and failing to revive someone who's already-'

'Let's not forget, Healer John, that my very generous contributions to this hospital helps you keep your job,' Sirius spat. He hated listening to these bastards preach and tell him what to do. All of them were just looking for empty beds to bring in more patients and higher revenues. Even lives had become commercialised in this institution. 'You just do what I ask you to. I don't care about your other lives or how you deal with it. Simply prescribe my potions and make sure Regulus gets a healthy tan.'

'Mr. Black, you being irrational-'

'I'll be waiting inside while you make arrangements,' Sirius replied brusquely, pushing the door open to Regulus's room.

Regulus breathed.

Remus was standing in the corner of the room with his arms crossed across his chest as he watched Regulus with a concentrated expression, as if trying to understand what was wrong. What was wrong? Sirius found himself laughing every time he thought of that very question. Regulus was breathing; that was wrong. 'He's brilliant, isn't he?' Sirius asked, moving to sit on the edge of Regulus's bed. He stroked his brother's dark black hair, unsurprised as a few strands tangled between his fingers and pulled out. Regulus was losing most of his hair. 'When he was younger, he would copy everything I did. I was like his God, sometimes, I think. He wouldn't so much as lift a finger without my approval first.' Sirius laughed bitterly, his hands travelling down gently across Regulus's face and moving down to his neck. Regulus's pulse beat faintly beneath his fingers, so he pressed harder, just to be able to better feel that unsteady rhythm.  _Still faint._  Sirius's fingers tightened and suddenly, he found himself enclosing both his hands around Regulus's neck. 'Wake up, you stupid fuck!' Sirius growled, his hands shaking as he pressed harder. He could feel a quicker beat now; much more alive than before. ' _Wake up!'_  A little bit tighter and surely Regulus would-

'SIRIUS!'

Sirius let go in shock and he turned around to see Remus looking at him wide eyed, breathing hard as his feet shuffled undecidedly. 'You can talk,' Sirius choked out, moving away from Regulus's bed. 'You said my name.' The closer Sirius moved towards Remus, the tighter Remus's lips got to a point where he looked as if he'd swallowed them. 'It's not my imagination,' Sirius assured himself with a grin. 'You can pretend to play dumb or mute yourself, but I was right from the beginning.' Sirius laughed maniacally, stopping only millimeters away from Remus's face and grabbing Remus's chin between his fingers. He had a feeling, for once, Remus was not going to attack him; either out of surprise or out of understanding that it was not the place to do so. 'You understand me perfectly, don't you? And you can talk perfectly, too.'

Regulus breathed.

* * *

'You like that, Harry?' James cooed, sending more bubbles his son's way through his wand. Harry would be turning one soon and was simply a mass of energy, running from one room to the other in search of someone to play with and chattering about in the few words and garbled sentences he'd learned. 'Careful there, love...'

A bubble popped on Harry's nose and James reached to wipe away the soap to avoid it getting into his son's eyes.

The doorbell rand and Harry went into another entire dimension of excitement. 'Oh damn,' James cursed under his breath, wondering what it was going to take to keep Harry in one place and out of trouble for the next few hours. The little chap was already waddling towards the door in anticipation of a new playmate, skipping and tripping over himself.

'I'll get it,' James called out, as he passed the kitchen, where Lily was busy preparing today's lunch. James cursed when the doorbell rang again and Harry's excitement bowled overdrive. 'Alright, that's enough, you,' he chided softly, picking Harry up by the waist and letting him dangle on the side in a way James knew his son loved. Harry was already giggling, when James opened the door.

Sirius grinned. 'Want to play a game, Jamie-boy?'

James took one look at the werewolf behind Sirius and closed the door. Unfortunately, James wasn't quick enough, as Lily came in and spotted Sirius immediately. 'Sirius, you finally popped in for a visit!' she cried, rushing and pulling him into a hug. 'How's everything going with you? Are you eating well? What happened to your face? James never tells me anything, even though the two of you work together!'

Yes, James "never tells Lily anything" about Sirius because she wouldn't be able to handle the truth. Lily thought the world of Sirius, so anything other than praises would be automatically dismissed. It wasn't something James could say over a cup of tea. What would he say anyway? Lily, Sirius has gone insane? I don't think he can take much more of anything? I think he's a fucking lunatic and should be locked up someplace?

'Who's your friend?' Lily looked over Sirius's shoulder curiously.

Sirius smiled suavely. 'Sorry; how rude of me. This is Remus. He-'

James's blood froze. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe Sirius actually let it out of its cage. It was really pushing the borderlines. It was one thing to put himself in danger and walk into the cage, but to actually let out a class nine beast out in the open was just- 'Sirius was just leaving, weren't you, Sirius?' James asked pointedly, feeling his anger boiling over. He needed to keep his cool in front of Lily. 'Some kind of prior engagement or so…'

'Nonsense,' Lily dismissed and pulled Sirius in. 'Go sit down. A cup of tea never hurt anyone and I'll whip up something for those bruises on your face, as well. Honestly, getting mugged like that in broad daylight,' she fussed and then smiled brightly as the werewolf followed Sirius in. 'It is really lovely to meet you, Remus. I'm Lily.' Lily put her hand out for a shake, but was met with nothing but thin air.

The werewolf simply looked down at her hand stoically. James wasn't the least bit surprised; Remus was a beast, not a human. It wouldn't know what a handshake even meant. What James was surprised about was the fact that the werewolf was docile and yet to attack. Despite Sirius's perfect lie, it didn't take genius to figure out how he got those bruises. The werewolf was a bomb waiting to go off. Unpredictable and dangerous; and Sirius had led it straight to James's house and his family.

'He's foreign,' Sirius explained when Lily retracted her hand, cheeks flushing from embarrassment.

'Oh. Well, why don't you boys sit down and I'll make everyone some tea.'

'No tea for Remus,' Sirius corrected, smiling charmingly, 'but if you've got anything with chocolate in it; that would be brilliant.'

Lily laughed, shaking her head and walking into the kitchen. James waited until he was sure she was well out of earshot before releasing his anger. He put Harry down and grabbed Sirius by the arm, pulling him into the living room forcefully. James didn't dare touch the werewolf or try to force it out of the house, remembering how violently it reacted to any kind of force. It looked weak, but James learned a long time ago with Sirius himself that appearances weren't the most effective basis to judge on. No, Sirius was the one James was going to kill.

The werewolf followed them in and quite calmly sat on the floor.

'What the fuck is wrong with you?' James asked through gritted teeth. 'Look, I don't care what the hell you do with your own fucked up life. I've tried a million fucking times, but you want your face looking like this: that's fine! But to bring this animal into my house an-'

'His name is Remus,' Sirius replied calmly, brushing his robes. 'He's quite brilliant if you get to know him; breaks fewer of your ribs.'

James wanted to scream. He was scared and furious, and all he wanted to do was scream and hit Sirius, and throw them out before anything bad happened. "Play a game" – who the fuck did Sirius think he was to use James this way. James didn't even know  _why_  he was holding back or why he had this god forsaken attachment to Sirius? He didn't know how to get rid of it. 'Sirius, I don't know if you're deranged or just fucking insane. You've read his files; you know better than I do. I don't care if you've finally named your little pet, he is what he is and he needs to get out. For you to actually put my family in jeopardy like this, I can't believe y-'

'James, perhaps you've forgotten,' Sirius interrupted, his face steadily darkening and growing sombre. 'I sacrificed beyond my life for your family. If any harm comes to them, especially in my expense, then that sacrifice is meaningless.' Sirius looked as if he was about to say more, but didn't. Instead, his jaw tightened hardened with resolve. 'Remus stays with me. He's mine.'

James sighed in exasperation. It wasn't as though he wasn't aware of what Sirius had done for them, nor was he ungrateful. James still wished to this day that things could have been different. But there were limits. There were limits to actions; to tolerance; and even to friendships. 'I don't doubt your intentions, Sirius. I doubt your sanity. I'll say this to you just once,' James rubbed his temples and looked towards the werewolf. His heart stopped when he noticed Harry running to climb on to beast's lap. 'Harry, no!'

Harry sat down right in between, wiggling his bottom to make himself comfortable. He grinned toothily, completely unaware of his father's mad heartbeat. 'Harry, love, don't move, okay. Daddy will come get you.' James felt like he was about to cry.' His son. His son was sitting there, completely unaware; actually pulling on the werewolf's shirt to coax it to play with him.

James would kill Sirius. If anything happened to his son, James would kill Sirius and make sure that werewolf never breathed again. If any-

'Well, look at that,' Sirius announced from behind, 'he can smile, too. Today is turning out to be quite an interesting day.'

James stopped, eyes wide and heart calming down slightly. The beast was definitely smiling, though it was a very small smile – the kind that was sort of crooked and unused. It reached out a shaky hand to pet Harry gently, and James felt himself tense again at the contact. Children; James reckoned even a werewolf had children that looked human. Even they would have empathy towards innocent children. Then again, James remembered that even the other day, the werewolf had only attacked when Sirius had threatened him and his territory. It was very possible that the beast saw Harry as harmless and didn't think it had to do anything.

'Oh, Harry, are you troubling our new guest?' Lily cried, walking in and setting the tea tray on the table. 'I'm so sorry. He always does this. He gets very excited with new people.'

James quickly wiped his eyes. He still wanted to take Harry away. He wanted to do something, but James wasn't sure if the beast perceived him as similarly harmless. He sat nearby on the floor, just in case, keeping a reachable distance and his right hand poised on his wand.

'I'll take that for him, Lily. Thank you,' Sirius sat down on the other side of Remus, setting both the mugs down before pulling Harry out of the werewolf's lap and setting him down on the floor.

James had never been so grateful to Sirius his entire life.

Sirius blew on one of the mugs and handed it slowly to the werewolf, helping him hold the handle properly. 'Drink slowly or you'll burn your tongue,' he said in a gentle voice that seemed very uncharacteristic of Sirius.

'Is he someone special to you, Sirius?' Lily asked, eyeing the two of them. 'The two of you seem awfully close.'

'He is special,' Sirius replied smiling, 'not a lot of people see that, I think.'

Lily frowned, but didn't say anything. She glared at James slightly and James knew it was because he wasn't trying to make conversation. He was quite sure he was also giving off a slightly hostile air, but it wasn't something he could control. Nor could he tell Lily.

'Remus, isn't it? How do find your stay here so far?' Lily asked, taking a sip out of her tea.

'He still hasn't settled well, it seems,' Sirius replied instead. 'But you know how it is here; it takes some getting used to.' At the confused look on Lily's face, Sirius laughed. 'Remus is mute, Lily.'

James snorted.

Lily glared. Her expression softened as she looked back at Remus. 'I'm so sorry. Was it an accident, if you don't mind me asking? Just, he seems to have a lot of scars, even on his arms. Sorry if I'm being insensitive.'

'These scars aren't the reason why,' Sirius assured with a smile. 'He can speak, but he just doesn't want to.'

Even James frowned in surprise over that. Was Sirius completely out of it? "Remus" was bred in captivity from a young age, which meant he didn't have the chance to learn nor cultivate himself, like older wolves did. Unlike the ones at the Ministry Registry, this one never got the chance to even be human, and probably never learned to speak either.

'It might be trauma or maybe he's being stubborn. I'll figure it out soon enough.'

Sirius laughed, completely off the moment, making Lily feel distinctly uncomfortable. She looked away from Sirius, focusing on a random patch of wall. 'Your friend; he's-'

The werewolf's head slid to the side, his whole body falling gracefully against Sirius. For a moment, James was sure the werewolf had suddenly died, but the heavy breathing told him that it was just sleeping. Sirius continued to laugh, wrapping an arm around its shoulder and pulling it closer.

He placed a rough kiss on the creature's forehead and grinned. 'Don't worry, he will speak eventually.'

* * *

Remus's back arched off the bed and Sirius waited, his hand stopping at the base. When Remus's eyes fluttered slightly, Sirius squeezed, increasing the pressure just enough to make it uncomfortable. Remus grunted in response and slowly, opened his eyes.

'Had a good nap, didn't you?' Sirius smirked, sitting back so that all his weight pressured on Remus's knees.

Remus's eyes widened and immediately, he tried to get up, only to feel himself being pulled back into the bed forcefully by the restraints. Remus struggled, trying to pull his hands from the restraints and growling angrily when he noticed that they were sealed to the bed and entwined together. It was Sirius's best torture spell; it was extremely strong and even if you battled against it, freeing one hand meant ripping off the other. The most pleasing thing to Sirius was that Remus not only figured out the disadvantage he was in very quickly, but also realised almost instantly that the same thing had been done to his feet.

'I drugged you,' Sirius replied, as Remus's head shot up and teeth bared in a snarl. 'I hate it, using a lot of potions or medications, but you needed to catch up on three days' worth of sleep. You're not any use to me if you're weak.' Sirius laughed and started moving his hand again. The other hand reached for his own trousers, struggling to pull down the zipper as his cock got harder and the material stretched tighter. 'It worked for a lot less time than you needed to recover. Not that I'm complaining. Wanking off to the way your face changes is a lot more effective.'

Sirius pulled out his cock and brushed it against Remus's, moaning from the pleasurable jolt that it sent through his body. Remus's whole body struggled underneath him, trying to dislodge Sirius, but the attempts were restrained. The more Remus struggled, the faster Sirius's hand moved, forcing their cocks together and creating an addictive friction. But more than anything, it was Remus's face that Sirius couldn't stop staring at.

The rage that spelled and contorted his thin angles and the amount of force he struggled with; everything about Remus was overwhelming. Remus's eyes were screaming in a mad whirl of colour; gold, black, red, brown, amber, so much amber that Sirius wanted to drown in them. Sirius was following every sound pouring out of those chapped, pale lips; every grunt and growl and unwanted moan that Sirius pulled out from just a twist of his fist or a press of his finger to the tips, and just the right amount of pressure.

'Do you find this humiliating?' Sirius panted, watching, mesmerised as the sweat dripping from his forehead pooled in the hollows of Remus's hips. 'Your pride was very important to you, wasn't it? Does this hurt? When I touch you like this; does my lust threaten to break you?' Sirius laughed when he noticed tears of anger and frustration pool in Remus's eyes. 'I'll stop if you want me to,' Sirius leaned closer to whisper into Remus's neck, 'Just speak.  _Ask_ for it.'

Sirius fell into blinding pain as he felt sharp teeth sink into his shoulder. Overtly sensitive from the heat, he felt felt the skin break, the slight trickle of blood and Remus's hot breath of malice bearing down on him. It was the sort of pain that had Sirius seeing blinding spots. Pain that made Sirius's hand move faster and his cock throb so hard, it felt like it was going to burst any moment. Even when the teeth had released from his shoulder and Remus was drifting in and out underneath him, from the overwhelming sensation. Even then, Sirius relished in the residue pain, bringing Remus and himself to climax and deliberately shooting all over Remus's chest and face.

'They keep calling you an animal, don't they? Even James,' Sirius breathed, his body still shuddering from post climax. 'What they will never know,' he chuckled, crawling up Remus's body and licking cum off his cheek with a slow, deliberate trail of his tongue. 'Is that you taste completely human.'

Remus had already passed out.

* * *

 


	4. White Etchings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius isn't mad. He's insane and it's gotten worse since Remus was brought in the picture. Now, James doesn't know who to save, as they spiral into darkness. But what James doesn't understand is, they don't need to be saved. They just need each other...

* * *

' _ **Can you define beautiful for me, Sirius? What do you find beautiful?'**_

' _People are beautiful,' Sirius replies to her redundant question without taking his eyes off the window. His eyes follow the children on their bikes to school, trying to show off to each other with their uncoordinated stunts and fake signs of bravery. 'They're pleasing to the eye, but not to the mind. The ugliness within them mars their beauty.'_

' _ **Ugliness; can you give me an example of such a thing?'**_

' _You,' Sirius says non-committaly. 'I see your compulsion to be here. I see your hunger for money that keeps you here and I see the disinterest in your eyes, as you wonder when it is that I will stop coming.' Sirius looks back at her and smiles slowly at her surprised expression. 'When will I stop talking? When will I finally go away?'_

_Her face comes back to its usual shade, but she neither confirms nor denies his statement. This is enough proof that it is true._

' _ **Do you feel this way about all people, Sirius?'**_

_Sirius hums and looks back at the window. There's a little plastic bag swirling in the wind, higher and higher in concentric circles, and then lower like a dwindling life. 'There are some,' Sirius says, 'sometimes; there is a woman with red hair and green eyes. She's kind, but quick to anger. But there is no ugliness or insincerity to her anger. She angers because she cares. It makes her beautiful.'_

' _ **Do you love her?'**_

_Sirius cocks his head at the oddness of her question. Love? Sirius reckons that at one point, perhaps, he really did understand that emotion. Now it just seems like a word without an appropriate definition. 'I feel affection for her,' he confirms after much thought, 'but I don't want to own her.'_

' _ **Own? Is there anyone you want to own?'**_

_Sirius smiles when he thinks about bright amber eyes. He already owns them; these eyes. They stare back at him when he comes home, full of anger and contempt. Sirius thinks that maybe he is in love with that shade of amber._

' _ **Is this person beautiful in your eyes, Sirius?'**_

' _Not in my eyes,' Sirius corrects her, 'He is not beautiful in my eyes. There is no need for vision; there are no words to describe his essence. Only that he is mine.'_

' _ **You talk of him as if he's an object.'**_

_All of a sudden now, he wants to go home. He doesn't want to answer these redundant questions and he doesn't want to look at this ugly woman for much longer. She doesn't understand anything and Sirius dislikes her with a passion. He hates how ugly she is. 'Objects do not breathe. Objects do not move. Objects do not fight back with fierce eyes and arouse every cell in your body. Objects do not make your body burn and shake with desire for them.' Sirius glares at her angrily. 'Not unless you're a pervert, doctor.' Then he breaks into laughter._

* * *

' _Again, Kreacher!'_

_Sirius's whole body seizes even before the cold water engulfs him, muscle spasming and his back involuntarily hitting the back of the chair he's bound to. He splutters through the water and breathes in deep chunks of air, as if doing so would reduce the icy frostiness that creeps up his spine and lodges painfully at his chest. The air prickles his wet skin and the residue water clogs his ears. At times like these, he wishes Mother would perform the Cruciatus on him instead. The pain, he thinks, is singular; so it's something he can handle. But Mother has always been known for her diverse punishments and she repeatedly lives up to her name._

' _You filthy little faggot! How many times will you tarnish the Black name? It's because of that bloody Gryffindor house! They're poisoning your mind with foolish ideals and ideas of equality!' She spits equality like it's a curse word. 'It's them. It's definitely them. They're tampered with you and turned you into this…this little tart that opens his legs for other men. They've-'_

' _They haven't done anything!' Sirius screams impulsively and knows it's a mistake when another jet of freezing water hits him. 'This is who I am!' Sirius spits out again, pushing back his violent shivers and failing. He wants to curse, calls her names, break through his binds and hurt her, but his teeth are chattering too loud and too hard. So all he can do to agitate her is repeat, 'I am a faggot. Faggot, faggot, faggot, faggot!'_

_The slap is expected, but it shuts Sirius up nonetheless. Mother is fuming, turning red so bright and so fast that she can't speak. 'Who you are? When did I give you permission to decide something like that? I make you who you are! You are what I tell you to be! You are a bloody Black and you will always be one, do I make myself clear?'_

_Sirius wants to scream. He wants to scream so hard, there are tears of frustration pooling in his eyes. He wants to die. He wants to have never been born, just so he can escape this name and the fate that's attached to it. Sometimes he wonders if he still can escape this insanity. What would happen if he suddenly took off and left this house? If he rebelled and screamed and brought himself to hate his Mother just a little more; would things be different then? What if Regulus were on this stool instead of him? Sirius hates himself for thinking such things. Besides, even if he ran, where would he go? James's? No, the Potters are purebloods of a different kind. They discriminate just like the Blacks but differently; they think families like the Blacks are filthy and deplorable, just as the Blacks think of the muggles. No matter how strong the friendship between Sirius and James, Sirius would never be accepted._

_Sirius laughs. Even in his wildest fantasies, he's bound to his name and unaccepted._

_Every water droplet dripping from his hair falls to his thighs like cold needles piercing into his skin. Sirius closes his eyes, blocking out the sight of his Mother and pretends what he knows will never happen. He pretends he's dead._

Sirius stared at Remus, still asleep beside him.

Sirius was drenched all over again, this time with sweat that had spread like a pool on one side of Remus's shirt, where Sirius had fallen asleep. His eyes travelled from Remus's fluttering eyelids, the long curve of auburn eyelashes and the shadows they cast against thin cheeks. Then the long arch of his nose that was bent in several places, as if broken a few times over. Sirius's gaze lingered on Remus's lips, a very light pink, darker in the places where the skin had peeled from dryness. Sirius wanted to touch them, his fingers itching and his hands moving on their own.

Sirius got up on his knees, hovering over Remus and burying his face into Remus's neck, where he could smell the tang of sweat and soap and the comfortable warmth of sleepy skin. His fingers veered towards Remus's collarbone, tracing the dip and then moving down to Remus's arms, circling the various bruises: memoirs of Remus's struggles last night against Sirius's binds. Sirius had let Remus's limbs loose at night before falling asleep beside him, but it seemed like Remus had slept through a perfect opportunity.

Sirius clicked his tongue. 'How disappointing.'

Sirius was still alive.

* * *

Remus stared at the enormous family portrait, leaning back against the banister and balancing himself between two steps. There was an older man and woman seated in a plush, black velvet chair. Remus recognised the woman from the wretched painting at the front hall; the one that screamed and cried obscenities until the curtains forced its mouth shut and granted the house silence for a few blissful seconds. The painting that Sirius greeted every morning with a smile, but scorned with his eyes in contradiction. The man: Remus didn't know. It was the only picture of him in the whole house. The two young boys standing on the sides of the portrait looked uncomfortable in their formal robes and stiff expressions. Even though they were small, Remus could tell which one was Sirius instantly; not because of their facial features or the difference in their heights, but by the madness brimming in Sirius's eyes.

There were many things that Remus didn't understand. Remus didn't understand why he was here in this house or why there was a constant need for humans to distinguish between themselves, between other species; this need to categorise. Remus also didn't understand how he knew certain words and why his brain familiarised him with things he was sure he never knew or had long forgotten. Mostly, Remus didn't understand Sirius, because Sirius was a lot like the house itself. Beautiful in appearance, with long black hair tied in a braid, light grey eyes outlined in black, and a sharpness about his features that called to the eyes. Yet, Sirius was…Remus couldn't explain it. Remus didn't think he was a bad person; that bitter stink of foulness that came with such people was absent in him. Sirius smelled different, overwhelming because it was a mixture of emotional scents and complications. Sirius smelled like his very soul was degrading.

Remus's own emotions towards Sirius were even more complex. He thought of Sirius as pathetic, but he was intrigued at the same time. Remus also knew that he hated Sirius, to a level that made his teeth clench and anger froth in his chest. He wanted to hurt Sirius. He wanted to hurt Sirius worse than the way Sirius hurt him. Remus wanted to hurt Sirius and break him, but Remus didn't want to kill him. Why; he didn't understand…

Remus rubbed the bruises on his wrists and climbed higher, till he reached the end of the staircase and into a room that seemed very similar to the one he'd been in the very first night. Except instead of a deep brown, this room was a rich plum with dark wood furniture similar to the rest of the house and gold tattooing on the walls. At least, on three of the walls. The fourth wall, the one with a window, seemed ruined. No, Remus didn't quite know the word for it. It wasn't ruined, but it was…defaced? Underneath, Remus could tell that it still held its original plum colouring, but it was overridden by white ink curving to form sketchy handwriting. The same handwriting spanned all across the wall and Remus realised much of it was repetitive. Again and again and again; the same words. Remus frowned and moved closer. In the back of his head, the letters felt familiar as if a part of him knew how to piece them together. He squinted, concentrating hard, but the puzzle didn't fit and he couldn't find any coherency within the manic recurring cycle of letters. If only he could… _(read?)…_ then he would understand what this meant…

'You's not meaning to be in Master Regulus's room.'

Remus whirled around in surprise to find the house elf glaring at him from the doorway. Remus disliked it. He disliked its lack of will and absent desire for freedom. But mostly, he disliked how it had no true personality; just the warped remnants of the masters it had served over the years.

'You has no place in Master Regulus's room. You has no place in this house, but Master Sirius is wanting to keep you. You filthy half breed…'

Remus looked away in disgust. The window overlooked the back garden of the house and Remus realised for the first time since he entered the house how beautiful it was when it was illuminated by the sun this way. Remus pulled up the glass and climbed on the sill, resting on his haunches. His muscles coiled and tensed; Remus didn't like heights.

'What's you doing!'

Remus jumped, landing swiftly on the balls of his feet and holding himself up by both palms rested firmly on the ground. The ground was what Remus truly craved; this smell of fresh earth and grass. Remus looked up to see the house elf peeking out of the window and screaming obscenities. Remus smirked and turned away.

'Don't thinks you can run away! Master Sirius will track you down and kill you, like you's deserve! Master Sirius will get you!'

Remus lay down on the grass and ignored the creature. He wasn't going anywhere. There was nowhere he  _could_  go, not without being killed or getting lost in this unknown city. Remus just wanted to see the sky. If he extended his hand to its fullest, it felt almost as if he was touching it; as if the blue of the sky was melting into his hand like flowing water.

_Remus can't stop crying. He knows he will die if he doesn't; he sees the others getting agitated. No one is ever in a good mood here, stuffed in this abandoned building and living off of scraps of food. Most are here out of force, much like Remus is, but they have accepted their fates as werewolves. In times of war, they say, you are more likely to be alive here than with the humans. Remus knows this is true, but he still can't stop crying. He still can't stop wanting to see his parents. His mother and father: are they worrying about him still? It's been over a year; do they remember him?_

' _Shut that little bitch up!'_

_Remus flinched as an empty soda can came flying towards him, stopping just short of his feet._

' _Stop it! He's only a child! Hey, are you okay?'_

_Remus looks up at the woman in front of him, sniffling. He's seen her a few times during fights. She's very graceful but reluctant, just like him. He knows she has a family: a daughter who isn't like her. He also knows that her daughter is now dead because of her. Remus wipes his eyes roughly and mumbles, 'Sorry…'_

' _Don't be,' she whispers softly, stroking his hair. It feels nice. 'You hate it here, don't you? You want to go back home…' At Remus's nod, she looks around cautiously and then inches closer to him. When she speaks, her tone is so low, Remus has to strain to hear her, 'Listen, a few of us are going to try and get out next fortnight. If you keep quiet about this, we'll take you along, do you understand?'_

_Remus isn't sure he does, but he's curious and he does want to get out. 'Where will you go?'_

' _Home, maybe,' she whispers unsurely. 'Not right away. They might search for us, but home is the final destination. We're probably going to camp in a few places. Bob says the circus might be a good idea…we can somewhat meld in with the background.'_

_Remus doesn't understand._

_She sighs at Remus's confusion. 'You want your parents to come for you, don't you? Then they'll come. Everyone comes to circuses, and they travel; so if it's not one place then surely the other. You'll meet them soon if you get out of here. That's what you want, don't you?' She ruffles Remus's hair when he nods meekly. 'But you need to remember one thing. Don't speak, don't cry; don't do anything that makes them feel you're human. It's not what they're looking for; they can't take weird things like that. The best way to live among humans is to be an animal, understand?'_

* * *

Fingers entwined with Remus's and a lanky figure blocked the sun. 'Even freedom has a price, they say.' Sirius smirked as Remus's hands tightened instinctively, blunt nails digging into Sirius's soft palms. 'I am yours, but are you mine?'

Sirius was not the price Remus was paying for his freedom; he was the barrier standing in the way. This was what Remus believed and just having to look at that smug and self satisfied face made Remus's blood boil. The memory of what Sirius had done to him last night; the humiliation, provoked his bubbling anger. Remus wanted him to fall.

'Hatred,' Sirius smiled, letting go of Remus's hand and falling back onto the grass, mimicking Remus's position. 'I see hatred in your eyes and it pleases me. It makes me…' Sirius turned and looked at Remus, grey eyes swirling with hunger and unhidden lust. '…want to own you even more.'

Remus turned away. It was not hatred he felt. No, it was despise. Remus despised him. Moreover, Remus despised himself for feeling this unbidden sense of pity for the man; scolded himself for responding to every single touch and shivering every time those disgusting fingers reached out for him, as they were doing right then. He hated the arms that wrapped around him, but if it was one thing Remus had learned over these few days, was that Sirius enjoyed provocation. The more Remus fought and attacked, the harder Sirius laughed. So Remus denied him that satisfaction and lay completely still.

'We'll be having a full moon soon, won't we?' Remus felt Sirius shift until his chest was pressed against Remus's back. 'I'm looking forward to it. You see, I have this theory…'

Remus never heard "this theory". Sirius had fallen asleep, forehead resting against the small of Remus's neck and arms curled tightly around his waist. His breath blew out in puffs against Remus's skin, slowing down in rhythm to the heartbeat against Remus's back.

Remus hated his conscience for not allowing him to kill Sirius Black.

* * *

Fiend. Brute. Demon. Devil. Miscreant. There were seven more synonyms that Sirius could list for the word "Monster", four of which he had learnt firsthand from his mother. One, that Sirius learned only now, standing outside the cage and watching a fully grown werewolf open its eyes at the end of its transformation. No one had ever told him that anything monstrous was also dangerously beautiful. In all the textbooks and masses of knowledge Sirius had gathered over the years, not one ever mentioned that the werewolf would keep its amber eyes, retaining its human depth and glow. And Sirius was staring right at them; those eyes that no longer sparked with hatred, but something a lot more feral:  _hunger_.

Sirius played with the keys to the cage, twirling them between his fingers. They jingled noisily, attracting the werewolf's attention.

'Remus,' Sirius tried, jangling the keys again and grinning when the werewolf's eyes followed the movement of his fingers. 'No…you're not Remus, are you? Not quite. You're the same, but different; changing with the moon…Moon: Moony, Moony, Moony….either way, you're mine.' Sirius laughed and threw away the keys. A cage that could be broken into with a spell had no use for them. 'Won't you welcome me into your humble home?'

Moony growled, pacing the perimeter of the cage, just inches from the silver, as he watched Sirius's every move. He watched as Sirius pulled out his wand and spelled the door open and he watched as Sirius got into the cage, sending a thrill coursing down Sirius's whole body. Moony's movements were an embodiment of Remus, slow and cautious, as if calculating exactly how to strike effectively. The only difference, Sirius felt was that Moony's hunger for human flesh shortened the time between his static and an attack.

Sirius never got to lock the door.

Moony pounced, his claws ripping Sirius's robes to shreds in minutes. Sirius was allowed one gasp of breath before Moony attacked his flesh, breaking the first layer of skin across his clavicle and chest. Sirius screamed, a little out of pain but mostly out of triumph. He screamed because he had predicted everything perfectly.

'You see, I have this theory,' Sirius rasped out, looking into the amber eyes boring into him with feral intensity. Moony's weight centred, pressing on top of Sirius's chest as his jaws loosened; teeth baring, ready to bite. 'This theory that no one would dare try except me.' Sirius reached up, his hand settling on the coarse ruff of the wolf, before transforming into his Animagus form.

The world dulled slightly and then intensified as Sirius's canine senses picked up of hunger, desire, ferocity, dominance, the growl right before an attack to the neck, the intense pain that shot through his nerves when several of his bones cracked and then Moony's confusion. The dog within him whined pitifully as Moony nudged him lightly with his snout, sniffing him curiously; wondering where the human had gone and why there was someone else in place of him.

' _You're same,'_  Moony whispered, licking Sirius's wounds and making them sting even more,  _'but different.'_ A part of Sirius, the one that hadn't been taken over by the pain and the dog, pointed out the fact that he had said the exact same thing about Moony. The irony was laughable. At the same time, the similarity wasn't unpleasant. It meant Moony…Remus…was imperfect and ruined, exactly like Sirius. It meant that he could destroy this man and hope for destruction himself. Soon, Sirius thought as his mind felt overwhelmed with agony and slowly started to give up.

Soon…

By dawn, Sirius's mind was awake but his body couldn't move. There was some kind of light in his eyes, but he was having trouble turning away from it.

By the first scream of pain, Sirius realised the own agony he was in. His body wouldn't move because everything felt as if on fire. Bits of him, Sirius realised, felt oddly detached; as if they didn't exist. He couldn't feel any of his fingers and his neck felt as if it had been torn into, because Sirius couldn't even bring himself to lift his head to look. It was pain beyond imagination. A sort of pain Sirius had never felt his entire life. Blinding and agonising to a point where it seemed insatiable. It was the best feeling Sirius had ever experienced.

By the second scream, Sirius's ecstasy was dwindling because of his confusion. This scream was too loud, too hoarse; as if the person's soul was being torn inside out from his body. It wasn't what Sirius had anticipated, so reluctantly, he opened his eyes. It took him a while to realise that another reason why he couldn't move was because Remus was kneeling over him, mouth wide in a pained scream and hands frantically running all over Sirius's body. It was odd; without looking, Sirius couldn't really feel Remus's hands. Sirius didn't think he looked that bad. He felt brilliant, as if he was finally able to feel _something_ ; that  _something_ he'd been longing for what felt like forever. It was finally his.

Remus was finally his.

Sirius smiled and tried to extend his hand. When the right one wouldn't move, he reached out with his left. His fingers refused to clench as they touched Remus's cheek gently. There was a lot he wanted to say, but Sirius didn't feel like talking just yet. So he simply brushed his lips against Remus's, neck straining from the effort.

_Mine._

* * *

Lily ran to the front door as the banging continued. It was too early in the morning for any sane person to be at her doorstep; nonetheless, a crazy person threatening to wake up the mad devil she sometimes called her husband. Lily hoped the devil's spawn wouldn't wake up either; Harry often threw tantrums when woken up abruptly. The boy took after his father, unfortunately.

'Yes, I'm here already!' Lily whispered, flinging open the door. 'Next time, try using the doorbell instead of trying to break op- ' Lily's words got caught in her throat. 'What…what is this?'

Remus shivered, holding Sirius's limp body tighter as he looked at her helplessly. They were both covered in blood, though Lily couldn't tell whose it was. He was saying something; his lips were moving but the sound dyed in his throat, never making it out.

" _Help…"_

* * *

 


	5. Red Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius isn't mad. He's insane and it's gotten worse since Remus was brought in the picture. Now, James doesn't know who to save, as they spiral into darkness. But what James doesn't understand is, they don't need to be saved. They just need each other...

* * *

' _ **Do you think you're sick, Sirius?'**_

 _Sirius raises an eyebrow and looks at her. He feels lethargic, tired from the full moon, so he's drowsing in and out of sleep on her couch. He doesn't really want to talk to her. Then again, he rarely ever does. 'Do_ you  _think I'm sick, Doctor?'_

_She doesn't reply. It irritates Sirius. It annoys him, just like the constant ticking of that wall clock; except hers is a heartbeat. Badump, badump, badump – a steady rhythm, signaling the lack of emotion. She's not fazed by Sirius's gaze or bothered by Sirius's situation. She doesn't care because she is less than human. Yes, that's what Sirius thinks. He thinks that he has seen amber eyes more human than her icy blue ones._

' _We're in a funny situation, aren't we?' Sirius laughed, closing his eyes. 'I come to you: a doctor in charge of my health; and I ask you if I'm sick, but you can't answer me. The very purpose of your job – redundant. So why are you here? Why am I here? Doesn't this make our session redundant also?' Sirius mocks, lip curling in disdain. 'Ah…but no, you're here for the money. And I'm here because I'm a masochist. Does_ that _make me sick, Doctor?'_

_She keeps silent for a while and then her lips turn an odd shape. Sirius thinks it is her attempt to smile._ _**'If you explain it better for me, Sirius, I might be able to answer your question.'** _

_Sirius laughs so long and hard that by the time he's done, he's clutching his stomach from the pain. She is bargaining with him; with a Black. 'There was this song, Doctor, do you remember? Pain is so close to pleasure…and all I can do is surrender…to your love…' Sirius hums the rest of the song, relaxing his eyes until they're nothing but blurry slits of vision. He thinks that is the feel of the song; a simple sway and an imperfect image. 'It's so badly defined: masochism, don't you think? Looked upon in disgust; seen as degradation and humiliation. No one sees it as an expression of love, a way to channel affection. My mother: she debased me,' Sirius smiles as he says this. He feels just a slight bit of pride at having found a way to show his mother's good side. She wasn't always about the name; she didn't always employ cruelty on her children, not in a cruel way. Sometimes, she was just a mother._

_The sounds of pencil scratching upon paper resonate in the silence of the room._ _**'Do you hurt the people you love, Sirius?'** _

_Sirius runs his hand across the purple velvet of the couch, pondering over her questions. 'I want people to hurt me,' he answers finally._

' _ **Then as an answer to your question, Sirius, perhaps I have to conclude that you are sick.'**_

' _Really? That's good then,' Sirius replies, humming the song again. It really is a lovely song._

* * *

Lily wiped her hands on a towel and stared at Remus. She wasn't really sure what to do with him; he seemed in a worse state than Sirius was; emotionally, that is. As always, Remus seemed to prefer the floor to a chair and this morning, it seemed he had gotten more than acquainted with Lily's clean, peach carpeting. In fact, Remus had curled in on himself: knees drawn in, head buried within the deep curve of his body, and hands running through the stubble of ash-brown hair in the back of his neck. He was rocking back and forth repeatedly and Lily figured, if he could talk, he would also be muttering to himself quite wildly. Lily wasn't sure what to make out of him or the fact that both men had very obvious claw marks across their bodies.

Lily touched Remus's shoulder gently and was immediately rebuked by a violent hand slapping her away. Remus looked up at her angrily, eyes bloodshot, and then pointed at an unconscious Sirius with his chin.

Lily looked back at the bed where Sirius lay. 'It's okay. Sirius is fine now,' she said gently, her hands reaching out for him slowly as if approaching a scared child. 'Let me tend to your wounds. Please. It's not as bad, but if I don't have a look at them…' Her fingers brushed against his shoulder, as she looked at him pleadingly. 'Please…'

Remus's piercing eyes searched her, sizing her up; probably wondering if he could trust her. He looked past her to the bed and then slowly, unsurely, unfolded.

Lily's stomach lurched at the mass of scars, old and new, across Remus's body. 'Good thing I haven't completely lost my touch, eh?' Lily tried breaking the ice. 'I used to be a healer; well, I still have my license I guess. But then the war happened and things changed. No, people changed.' Lily smiled sadly and picked up her wand, casting the messier spells first to quickly seal the deeper of the wounds. 'It's ironic actually; to see that the people who have lived through the war suffer more than the ones who have died.' Remus looked at her with an indecipherably expression. The kind that didn't mean to put her down, but instead understand her and make her feel  _secure._ 'James gets anxious…scared, for Harry and me, even now. That's why I haven't joined work again, but maybe little by little…'

Lily laughed abashedly, tucking her hair behind her ears. 'Look at me; I'm getting carried away like this. There's honestly something about you…' Lily smiled kindly. 'Your eyes, I think. They're very  _honest_. I mean, they're very expressive and…non-judgmental, I think. Perhaps that's what Sirius loves about you.' Lily laughed again, feeling utterly ridiculous after having said such things. Sirius would have yelled at her for being silly and an over presumptuous brownnoser. Would have; perhaps fiver years ago.

Lily shook her head. 'You still won't tell me how this happened, will you?'

Lily lost eye contact with Remus.

There was a reason why Remus didn't go to the hospital instead, Lily knew this. The reason could be that he was new in town and didn't know the way. Or it could be the exact thing that Remus was so desperately trying to hide.

Lily sighed. 'It isn't your fault,' she whispered softly, looking down. 'Whatever happened; it isn't your fault. I know this because Sirius…he…' Lily didn't know what to say anymore. What was Sirius exactly? 'He wasn't always like this. When we were in school, he was funny and mischievous, and always up to these tricks with James. He took in a lot of grief at home, but he rarely let it show. He was alright…somewhat…' Lily's jaw clenched. 'I think, maybe, it's our fault he's like this now.' She smiled bitterly and placed a hand over Remus's. She squeezed his fingers tightly, when Remus looked at her curiously. 'Sirius isn't a bad person.' She stopped herself from saying anything more even though she really wanted to. Remus would understand. Lily had a feeling that if anyone, Remus would understand.

Lily let go of his hand and looked away uncomfortably. 'Sorry,' she muttered, standing up and walking towards the cupboard, where the supplies were kept. 'You're arm's mostly fine, but we need to keep it on cast for a day; let the bones adjust to the healing. I'll get more bandages, so why don't you just cast a quick cleaning charm, alright?' Lily pointed at her wand, which she'd left on the floor. 'Don't worry. The wand won't backfire with such a simple charm, even if it's incompatible.'

Remus stared at the wand, but did not pick it up. Instead, he seemed to be distracted by a pile Harry's toys that Lily had hastily moved out of the way when they'd first brought Sirius in. It took a while for Lily to realise that her request had been utterly insensitive. Remus was speech impaired, which meant he couldn't spell. Sirius had mentioned at some point that Remus had never attended school.

'Sorry,' Lily muttered, doing up the cast and cleaning charm on him herself. 'Are you hungry? Why don't I prepare some breakfast and you can look after Sirius if he wakes up, alright?'

A tilt of head was the only answer Lily received, since Remus seemed genuinely engrossed in Harry's crayons. Lily honestly didn't understand him, but then she figured Remus suited Sirius perfectly. An odd lover for an odd man.

Lily chuckled and opened the door, only to walk straight into her husband.

James blinked at her, surprised and jolted out from his probably sleepy haze. Then his eyes shifted into the room and he lost it. On reflex, Lily closed the door and grabbed James forcefully by the shoulders. It was almost terrifying to see his usually caring face contort with such degree of rage. It was rare, in fact, and Lily could feel the depth of James's growing anger through the trembling of his shoulders.

'James, calm down!' Lily scolded, grip tightening in an effort to hold him back. She quickly moved herself between James and the door. 'James, what do you think you're-'

'He's a werewolf!' James snarled, jerking her hands away. 'He's a fucking werewolf!'

Lily almost lost her footing then. It honestly did explain a lot of what had happened today.

'I warned Sirius this was going to happen! That fucking-'

'He saved Sirius,' Lily replied shortly, taking James by surprise. 'I'm not sure exactly what happened last night, but I'm sure of this. James, believe me, it's not his fault…' It couldn't be; Lily had seen the guilt Remus was going through and she'd also seen his concern. Remus would not have brought Sirius to her if he intended to kill him. Remus would not have put Sirius's healing before himself if he had truly wanted to hurt Sirius. Lily had a feeling it was an accident. No, perhaps, it was intended; but not by Remus…

James looked at Lily for a moment and then nodded. His clenched fists relaxed slightly as he looked towards the closed door. 'How's Sirius?'

'He's fine,' Lily assured, wondering how many times she'd repeated that one line this morning alone. 'He's perfectly fine.'

James didn't seem convinced. He had this faraway look he usually got when it came to Sirius; as if he was debating whether to be concerned or not. Then again, that was how James always seemed lately; constantly lost and caught up. 'Was it bad?'

Lily smiled. 'Nothing I can't fix.'

James nodded reluctantly, running a frustrated hand through his already messy morning hair.

'You can trust Remus,' Lily said, though she had to admit that she wasn't entirely sure herself. But then, she was never sure about James or Sirius either, but she trusted them nonetheless. At least, she really wanted to, because she loved both of them.

'I can't,' James sighed tiredly. 'I know I'm not supposed to be prejudiced, but knowing what he is and knowing what Sirius is….I can't  _not_  see him as a threat. Even if this werewolf….Remus,' James corrected, 'even if he isn't dangerous, Sirius will make him so. Lily, you don't understand…you don't know Sirius like I do.'

No she wouldn't, because both Sirius and James seemed to like to keep her in the dark. Glossed truths, fake reassurances, and fabricated moods; it was as if they had left a Sudoku puzzle for her to solve with every word they spoke. She had to fill in the numbers and often, not all of them fell into place.

'Go in and sit with them for awhile,' Lily said finally, forcing her usual bright smile. 'I'll get all of you some breakfast. Go on…'

* * *

_Even the pouring rain doesn't drown out Bellatrix's fake crying. Howling, Sirius corrects in his mind, because that's exactly what she is doing on the event of Walburga Black's death. She is howling because Mother's Will left Bella a single silver tea set. It is worthless because Bella has never liked tea. Nor has she ever liked Walburga, though she does have a certain admiration for her._

_Sirius pulls his umbrella lower to avoid having to see her disgusting face, as she wails into Narcissa's shoulders and cries in melodramatic agony: 'Why? Why her? Why now?'_

_Sirius wants to ask a similar question. He also wants to add, 'Why not before this, when my eyes didn't itch so much or my throat didn't tighten every time I thought of her? Why not when I hated her a little less than I do now?' But he stays quiet and stoic, like all the men in the funeral. It is expected of him._

' _Guess we're finally free,' Regulus says from beside Sirius. He looks much like Sirius today, in dark mourning robes and his hair slicked back. He too, is expressionless; not because he is expected to seem so, but because Mother has never quite taken to him as she did Sirius and vice versa. In short, Regulus doesn't care if Mother dies or lives. 'Freedom is a good word.'_

_Sirius looks at Regulus, but doesn't say anything. It is a good word, but Sirius doesn't believe in it._

' _We don't have to listen to her anymore or fight this bleeding war, or uphold the Black name,' Regulus continues, speaking as if things are truly that simple. Speaking as if Mother's death was just an ending and she was really gone. 'We can leave, right? We can quit the Death Eaters and move someplace wher-'_

_Mother was never gone._

' _Regulus, don't spout nonsense,' Sirius chastises angrily. He has never scolded Regulus all his life, never so much as gotten angry at his little brother for anything. Sirius has never had to, because Regulus breathes only to please Sirius. His attachment to Sirius and the way Sirius has reared him since he was a child, guarantees this. Regulus, for Sirius, is yet another thing that he needs to protect; Sirius wishes Regulus would understand that._

_But Regulus doesn't understand and he is annoyed by Sirius's anger. 'You hate it too, don't you? I've seen you. You're tired from leading this double life. You want to join the Potters in their fight and you're running out of excuses not to. And you're always agonising over the people you killed; in your head, you have a lis-'_

' _Regulus, know how to read the situation and environment around you. Don't simply speak so freely,' Sirius warned through clenched teeth, eyes swiveling around for curious relatives. He doesn't know how Regulus knows these things about him; doesn't want to hear them. 'There are people here waiting for you to slip so they can condemn you.'_

' _I don't care if I'm condemned,' Regulus replies rebelliously, still too loud. Sirius hopes his voice is muffled by the rain and Bella's crying, but he feels the beginning of vicious stares. 'Sirius, we're not obliged to do this anymore! We can quit! I want to get rid of this cursed mark, forever.'_

' _Regulus!'_

' _If you're with me, Sirius, nothing will happen. You're stronger than nearly half the Death Eaters there. We can help each other!' Regulus turns toward him now, eyes suddenly hopeful. 'I heard that the war hasn't reached yet in Kazakhstan and-'_

' _Regulus,' Sirius cuts through in a hushed tone, grabbing Regulus by his arms. 'I can only protect you within the boundaries of my strength. Don't easily assume that Volde-the Dark Lord will just as simply let you go. I've said this before; there's a reason Mother has chosen this path for us and it's-'_

' _It's not because she wanted to protect you,' Regulus defies again and this time, it makes Sirius's blood boil in anger rather than anxiety. 'It's definitely not because she loved you.'_

_Sirius hates that, like Mother, Regulus is using words to manipulate him. Hates that after everything Sirius has done for his little brother, Regulus would lie to get his own way. Sirius detests this curse mark as much as his brother, wants it gone, wants to be with his friends; but he doesn't use underhanded ways to get there. He doesn't lie to anyone like this._

' _The things she did to us…to you…Sirius…'_

_Sirius doesn't want to remember the bad things about his deceased mother, but now that Regulus has said it, it seems that's all he can remember about her. 'Keep your mouth shut, Regulus, and stay put. Don't do anything foolish that you might regret.'_

James was staring. It was extremely uncomfortable, but Remus ignored it; instead staring steadily at the book in his hands. The book had few words and many colourful pictures. Remus figured he would have enjoyed some of the moving pictures if his eyes weren't so tired from last night. He wanted to sleep, but Remus had no intention of closing his eyes in a place he couldn't trust. He had let his guard down once; and it had resulted in this morning. Remus had promised himself that would never again hurt another human being without an intended purpose, especially not using his lycan form. And he had upheld that promise for nearly ten years. He had stayed true to it until he had met the hateful insanity that was Sirius and everything changed.

' _Sirius isn't a bad person.'_

'Can you read?'

Remus looked up at James and slowly, unsurely passed the book in his hands. There were words encircled in blue crayon; words that seemed to piece together for Remus. Words that when he stared long enough, were no longer squiggles but objects and things that came to life in front of Remus's eyes; slotting into his meaning and speech. Words.

You. Him. Hat. Fool. Ball. See. I. Jam. My. Cat. Sky. Tip. Stars.

 _Him:_  Sirius.  _Sky:_  the blue that meant freedom.  _Ball:_  toys rolling into each other.  _My:_  mine: what Sirius called Remus.  _Mine, mine, mine:_  an annoyance; something Remus doesn't understand and it angered him.  _Jam:_ red paste that Sirius spread on Remus's bread on the mornings there was no marmite. Sirius always made sure Remus ate everything given to him.  _Fool:_  someone who understood nothing. Remus was a fool for not anticipating Sirius's madness before the full moon. Remus was a fool for not having completed the job, but saving this man instead. Remus was a fool for continuing to live in that house and for wanting Sirius to open his eyes to make sure he was really fine. Remus was a  _fool._

'You can read these words,' James stated, turning over the page. 'Where did you learn how to? Was it before you were…' James went silent; perhaps thinking it would be a sensitive topic.

Remus wasn't going to answer anyway. Not because he saw it as offensive but because he didn't know. He didn't know when he started being able to read or how, except that this latent ability seemed to be suddenly worming its way out. The more he stared, Remus realised, the more he understood. Perhaps there was more; could he write as well? Did he ever learn?

'Jamie-boy, g'morning.'

Remus suddenly felt a huge relief as he watched Sirius open his eyes tiredly, and sit up. The relief was momentary, because it was closely accompanied by anger, hatred and disgust. It was only Remus's self control and James's presence that kept Remus's fists loose and his mind calm. But just barely, and only because James had asked the question Remus was burning to know the answer for:  _'Why?'_  Why interfere with a transformation knowing the consequences? Why ruin my life this way? Why does your cruelty have to extend to my guilt and the one part of me I cannot control? Why does my conscience stop me from finishing a hateful man like you?

'You see, James, I had this theory.' Sirius smiled, explaining slowly and enjoying every moment. 'A werewolf preys only on humans, not animals. An animal close to a werewolf serves as a good companion. And a good companion keeps the werewolf sane, which means the werewolf hurts itself a lot less. I had a feeling no one would believe me, but look at him.' Sirius grinned broadly at Remus, eyes roaming over Remus's body as if trying to consume him. 'It worked, didn't it? It worked only because it was me. Because he's mine.'

Remus stared, suddenly feeling very, very cold; as if a bucket of ice had been dumped over his head. The hairs on his arms stood up as a shiver passed down his spine.

'Don't say anymore, Sirius,' James mumbled, looking away. 'Don't fucking talk to me. I don't even want to have to see your face for a while.'

Remus didn't miss the upset in James's eyes. It was an odd kind of upset; angry but not in a violent way. Remus didn't know who more to feel sorry for: James, Sirius, or himself…

' _Sirius isn't a bad person.'_

* * *

'Get out. Get out. Get out,' the elf kept chanting.

He wouldn't stop, not since Remus entered the room an hour ago. Kreacher had a special attachment to this room and Regulus; so much so that he was bordering on tears at Remus's intrusion. For the first time, Remus actually felt sorry for the poor house elf and the law Sirius had let down to never so much as touch a hair on Remus's head. Remus was feeling sorry, but that didn't mean he was going to leave. Not yet.

'Get out of my Master Regulus's room. Get out, filthy werewolf. Get out. Get out. Get out.'

Remus stared at the etchings on the wall. They still weren't quite piecing together, not the way the book had at the Potter's house. There were words Remus recognised: wood, brown, pen; but they were all snitches of bigger words. Exactly what was written on the wall; what did all of it mean? Remus's mind itched out of curiosity; he had a feeling these writing were relevant. As if they held a deeper meaning and understanding of Sirius. Maybe if Remus read them well enough, he would understand how to make Sirius stop.

A high pitched scream pierced the air, shaking Remus from his stupor. Sirius had returned, it seems, with a customary welcome from the cursing banshee that hung on the wall. Remus has promised himself, he would one day tear down that picture. In fact, he had tried several times, but the portrait had refused to move.

'Kreacher, where are you? Take my coat and prepare the bath!'

The elf finally disappeared with a flash, and Remus could then hear multiple footsteps up the staircase – the familiar sound of Sirius's shoes clacking across the hardwood and Kreacher's bare feet slapping in tandem. He was a loud house elf; very different from the others in his species. But Kreacher's sounds were always in sync with his master. Every swish of Sirius's cloak followed the creak of Kreacher's joints as he folded the clothes. Sirius's calls were followed by scurrying footsteps and Sirius's visits to Regulus were accompanied by a hopeful message. Remus didn't understand much about this house, but he understood that Kreacher's devotion to Sirius came out of his attachment to Regulus.

As the footsteps drew closer, Remus also realised there was another presence. No, that was not it; there were no extra footsteps and the presence didn't seem concrete. It was a lingering scent of something extremely foul and unpleasant, and it hid between the creases of Sirius's skin. This stench: Remus found it extremely intrusive and unwanted, though he wasn't sure why. It took only a few moments for Remus's human mind to process the meaning behind odour; and just mere seconds for his animal counterpart to push away its submission and fly into rage. Something in Remus had gone mad and before he knew it, the madness had spread through the rest of him like a disease.

Sirius's head jerked backwards collided hard with the wall, as Remus pushed into him hard.  _'Liar,'_  Remus spat, his vocal cords stretching from disuse and effort. It hurt to speak and the words felt scratchy against his throat, like rubbing cut glass against it. ' _Liar!'_ There was much more Remus wanted to say, but there were words in his head that wouldn't form on his lips. They didn't know how to. 'Mine, mine, mine, mine – you always say. You lied!' The closer Remus pushed against Sirius, the more he could smell it; it drove him crazy. It lingered on Sirius's clothes like a bad after taste. Remus pulled at them, feeling his anger being satisfied at the sound of ripping cloth and Sirius's disoriented expression.

'Another human,' Remus growled. He wanted to say  _person_ ; Sirius smelled like the fluids of another person; man. An ugly man. 'I  _hate_  it!' Remus grabbed Sirius by the upper arms and flipped him violently, so that Sirius's back was now turned towards him. It was a beautiful body, Remus realised. It was clean and unmarred, and so pale that it looked like it has never been so much as grazed by the sun. Sirius's arms and legs were lithe, almost feeble looking, as they bended under Remus's brute force. Sirius wasn't resisting. He was pushing against Remus, practically pleading through his moans and letting out a hoarse scream when Remus's fingers pushed against him.

Sirius gasped heavily underneath him, his naked skin brushing maddeningly against Remus's with every up and down of his chest. Stray black hair slipped from Sirius's ponytail, curling around Remus's fingers like vines, and exposing the back of Sirius's neck. The smooth expanse of skin from Sirius's ear to his shoulders; turning steadily red. Remus submitted to his lust, pushing into Sirius with one swift thrust and biting into his neck; marking Sirius above that other horrid stench. Remus would wipe it out; overwhelm it with his own body; carve himself into Sirius repeatedly till Sirius's knees gave away and he wouldn't be able to even stand without feeling Remus deep inside him.

'Fuck, harder!' Sirius cried, clenched fists banging against the wall. 'Harder!'

Remus thrust in harder, palms pinning Sirius by the shoulder against the wall, completely immobile. 'Shut up,' he commanded hoarsely into Sirius's ears, grabbing Sirius's thigh and hoisting it up to thrust in deeper. Remus gasped, eyes clenching shut when Sirius tightened around him. 'Don't say a fucking word…'

* * *

' _So, that's the prophecy…' James finishes, breathing heavily. He looks hopeless and tired, and Sirius can tell he's terrified for his family. When he joined the Order, James knew he was choosing a dangerous path for himself, but he had never considered harm coming upon his child. No one would have. 'I really need your help, Sirius. I need you to be my Secret Keeper. I know…I understand that it's asking too much from you and it's dangerous, but Dumbledore promised me he would make arrangements for your safety. You're not part of the Order, so you're not suspicious as a pureblood, and they'll set security all through Grimmauld Place and…' James takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. 'Honestly, you're the only one I can trust right now…'_

_Sirius looks down at his shoes, catching his reflection on the over-shined surface. He is surprised by the guilt showing on his face, but this is not the first time he has felt this way. He wants to help, but the dangers and risks are too many. Escaping isn't as easily done as said; this is why he rejected Regulus. Is the life of his unborn godchild really worth risking Sirius's own life?_

_The answer comes quicker than Sirius expects. He takes and deep breath and starts rolling up the sleeve of his left arm. 'Perhaps you should reconsider trusting me…'_

_James draws a quick breath, his eyes widening in shock. Hesitant, he reaches out to touch the Dark Mark, tracing the skull with his fingers. 'Your mother.' It isn't a question._

_Sirius nods._

' _She's dead,' James says matter-of-factly, looking up at Sirius._

' _It doesn't matter. I'm still a Black,' Sirius finds it hard to keep the bitterness in his tone, 'but maybe it's time I changed. Some things…some people are more important.' Sirius smiles, hoping the fear clenching his heart doesn't show on his face. He has wanted to do this all his life, so there was no reason not to. He was going to break free._

* * *

Sirius couldn't move. The pain in his back was intense, like someone had hammered into it repeatedly. Then again, Sirius laughed inwardly, someone had. It had been unexpected and nothing like Sirius had planned. Not at all; Sirius had wanted to dominate over Remus. He had wanted to be the one to break Remus apart, piece by painful piece. But the turn of events weren't all unwelcome. Remus  _had_  broken, and in turn, he had broken Sirius. Painfully, blissfully; so intense that it was like nothing Sirius had ever felt before. No, it was as if Sirius had finally felt  _something_.

'I'm sorry.'

Sirius opened his eyes, squinting against the sunlight. He was on his bed; clothed, he realised, and washed as well. It was unnecessarily comfortable; Sirius would have preferred to lay there on the ground even after he'd fainted. Things could have felt more real. Perhaps Remus would also be sitting beside him, as he was now on the edge of the bed.

'I'm sorry,' Remus repeated, reaching out a hesitant hand and placing it over Sirius's head. Remus's voice was deliciously hoarse from disuse, just as it was last night. It was richer than Sirius had imagined it to be; much more erotic; enough to send the blood rushing to his cock all over again.

Remus's fingers buried into Sirius's hair, moving back and forth slightly. Remus still wasn't quite looking at Sirius, his eyes shifting from one corner of the room to another as he spoke, 'I don't know why I get angry and…' Searching for words, Sirius realised. Remus was so unused to talking that he was having a hard time finding the words to do so. '…confused. I want to hurt you but I don't want to hurt you. I…it's difficult.'

'Don't think,' Sirius advised, closing his eyes as Remus's nimble fingers ran through his hair. 'It's overrated. If you want to kill me, do it. If you want to run, then try, but I'll never let you fucking leave.' Sirius grinned maniacally. 'If you want to fuck me, then by all means, do it.'

Remus finally looked at Sirius, amber eyes suddenly more alight than Sirius had ever seen then. He was going to do something, Sirius realised with a surge of excitement. Remus was going to follow Sirius's advice and do something intense and irrational. Was he going to fuck Sirius again? Or would he lash out of frustration and anger and hatred? Was he goi-

Sirius's eyes widened as Remus's lips gently touched his.

_No!_

It was an amateur kiss; Remus's lips moved unsurely over his, experimenting slowly with a peek of his tongue.

_No! Wrong! This is wrong! Don't!_

Remus's nose brushed against Sirius's awkwardly as he moved closer, pushing his lips just a touch harder. His right hand cupped Sirius's face, thumb softly tracing circles over his cheek.

 _Don't be so gentle. Don't. Decieving! Such things are deceiving,_ like a drug that gets you high and brings you down. Sirius didn't want it. Sirius didn't want to get used to such things.

Remus parted, breathing slightly before pressing his lips to Sirius's again.

_No!_

Sirius couldn't stop him; didn't have the strength to resist the insistent caress of Remus's tongue or the way his hands moved to soothe the bruises on Sirius's skin. He couldn't fight against Remus's intoxicating scent or keep himself from drowning in the sounds of a rapidly rising heartbeat.

It was frightening.

Sirius needed to stop this.

* * *

 


	6. Grey Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius isn't mad. He's insane and it's gotten worse since Remus was brought in the picture. Now, James doesn't know who to save, as they spiral into darkness. But what James doesn't understand is, they don't need to be saved. They just need each other...

* * *

' _ **Do you have any fears, Sirius?'**_

_Sirius looks at the floor thoughtfully. He doesn't quite like the carpeting; it is an ugly brown, several shades too old and dirty. It is a brown that looked like dried mud. 'I fear the light sometimes.'_

' _ **Don't you mean the dark?'**_

' _No.' If Sirius had meant the dark, then he would have said the dark. Why would he say light?_

' _ **Why do you fear the light?'**_

_Sirius tilts his head slightly to look up at her. She is wearing a shade of lipstick very similar to the carpeting. Ugly brown; like she has been eating mud. 'It shows me things I don't want to see.'_

' _ **Is that really a fear of light, Sirius, or is it a fear of the truth?'**_

' _Neither. It's a fear of…' Sirius ponders over it, wondering if she will really understand. She is simple minded, crude, powerless. She sees the dark rings around Sirius's eyes, but not the blackness invading his soul; she is skin deep, just like her muddy lipstick. '… a person.'_

' _ **A person? How do you mean?'**_

_Sirius hums idly. 'I can't predict him. He does nothing I want him to and everything I don't want him to. Too close. Too far. Too soft. Too hard. Too amber. He's…changing and I can't control him.'_

' _ **Who is this? Will you tell me?'**_

_Sirius shakes his head. 'I don't want to say. I don't want you to hear his name or think of him. I don't want you to know who he is.'_

' _ **Why not?'**_

_He looks up at her and smirks. 'Because he's mine.'_

* * *

It was so easy. So fucking easy to just close his fingers around Sirius's throat. Remus was already halfway there; his fingers poised around Sirius's fragile neck. Sirius was asleep, breathing deeply and entirely unaware of Remus's cruel intentions. Sirius slept well nowadays, but only because he spent the nights with Remus; forcefully pushing Remus to the limits; gouging Remus's temper; provoking Remus to push him down and fuck him hard. Remus succumbed to Sirius every single time, almost drowning in the way Sirius cried for  _'more'_  and  _'harder'_ , again and again and again; until he was too exhausted and hoarse to even speak. It wasn't that Remus's temper that pushed him into sex. It was Sirius.

Remus hated it.

It was cruel.

It was an underhanded way of using and toying with Remus.

Most of all, it threw Remus off balance; distorted and confused his world.

Remus wanted to be rid of this feeling.

Yet, as he sat there, straddling Sirius's hips, fingers only inches away from Sirius's jugular, all Remus could think of was how naked Sirius was underneath him. Naked and fragile; and in some sick, tortured way, Remus thought he was the most beautiful human he'd ever seen.

Remus wanted to be rid of Sirius.

Remus jumped off the bed abruptly when the doorbell echoed eerily through the halls. He glanced at the window outside, noticing that it was still the early hours of sunrise; the odd time when it was too late to be asleep yet too early to be up. It was also a very suspicious time to be having visitors in the house. Then again, it was always suspicious to have visitors in Grimmauld Place; Remus had never seen anyone besides James ever enter this house. Sirius always took all his dealings outside.

Remus pulled on his trousers and walked out of the room, groaning with displeasure when the second bell set off that disgusting painting of Sirius's mother. She screamed pureblood jargon and all kind of blasphemy, until finally, Remus reached the bottom of the stairs and pulled the curtains forcibly shut. Thankfully, Kreacher had opened the front door before the visitors got any more impatient.

'Sorry for the intrusion.'

Remus frowned as Lily walked brusquely past him, her usually cheerful expression replaced by a much more sombre one. James did not follow her, but simply watched her walk up the stairs, robotically swaying his young son in his arms. When Harry noticed Remus, he smiled toothily and stretched his arms, beckoning Remus.

'Has Sirius woken up yet?'

Remus shook his head, ignoring Harry's outstretched arms and childish pout. He wondered why James was here if it wasn't for work, especially when James particularly disliked even stepping foot in this house.

'Sirius told me you can speak.'

'I don't like to,' Remus replied, feeling his voice strain from saying just this much. It was difficult to speak; a lot of the times, the right words wouldn't form on his lips and his throat hurt terribly when he used his speech too much. Sometimes, there were no human words for the things he wanted to say.

'Why not?'

'Unnecessary.'

James shifted awkwardly. 'Lily asked me to trust you.' He looked at Remus searchingly and then sighed. He glanced at his feet and then at Remus again, before handing over a very happy Harry to Remus. 'I want to trust you. Because I feel you're different. Maybe you're…' James trailed off, leaving the 'maybe' incomplete.

He smiled bitterly, watching Harry take special interest in the way the beginnings of Remus's hair formed big curls. Harry was curiously poking his finger through each curl and giggling. 'I want to trust you, but I feel that this place and Sirius can do things to you…' James looked at the fireplace uneasily, occasionally sparing a glance upstairs where Lily and Sirius were. 'Hey, tell me truthfully. Does Sirius still hurt you…I mean-'

An inhuman wail filled the air, and it took Remus a moment to realise that it was actually Kreacher, who had previously followed Lily upstairs to Sirius's bedroom. Harry promptly burst into tears; yet James looked unfazed if not only a little tired. He sighed and rubbed his temples in an almost resigned manner, holding back Remus firmly by the shoulder when Remus tried to go upstairs to investigate.

Remus looked at James quizzically. 'Please let go. Something might have happened…'

James shook his head. 'Regulus is dead; that's all.'

* * *

Sirius flinched, dimly aware of his surroundings. He could hear a car honking impatiently; the ticking of the old clock, which always seemed to skip a beat every eight minutes; the pacing of Kreacher's feet as he moved outside Sirius's bedroom; even the gentle breathing of another person beside him. Yet, Sirius's eyes would not open. He was trapped; encased within his own mind.

' _Master Sirius…'_

_Sirius's eyes immediately move to the deep burns on Kreacher's hands and arms. They are truly hideous; much of it blistering into white sacks over his old skin. Sirius has never seen Kreacher's self punishment go this far in violence, nor has he ever seen Kreacher tremble so much since Mother's death. Except this time, rather than sorrow, Kreacher's knees are buckling under fear and his eyes are dripping with fat tears._

' _Master Sirius, Kreacher is sorry…Kreacher is sorry…Kreacher is promised to be keeping quiet but…'_

_Sirius has been stuck with Kreacher in this house for a month now; if he is counting from the exact day he agreed to be the Potter's Secret Keeper and go into hiding. On most occasions, Sirius has learned to ignore Kreacher's often irrational behaviour, but today is truly worrisome. For some reason, he feels uncomfortable; much like when you watch the dark clouds swirl in ominous silence just before a storm hits._

_Kreacher wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, sniveling. 'Master Sirius…I tries to stop him…' Kreacher holds up a large gold necklace, centering a black stone. 'Master Regulus…'_

It was painful. So painful to be trapped in his own head; his thoughts; his past; his present; his future; his whole wretched life recurring within him. There wasn't anything to numb him. It hurt.

' _Let me go!' Sirius struggles against the two aurors restraining him by the shoulders. Dumbledore, you can't do this! I have to go and-'_

' _Sirius, please try to understand your position at the moment,' Dumbledore interrupts, his blue eyes looking sad and troubled. Sirius knows Dumbledore is kind. He knows that he can trust this old man, but this is something only Sirius can handle. 'The entire wizarding world is relying on the fact that you protect the Potter's location inside of you. I need you to calm down and trust in us to settle this matter.'_

_Sirius swallows, twisting his hands again to see if he can somehow get loose. He shouldn't have told James about Regulus. Sirius should have just gone. 'I'll keep the secret. I won't betray anyone, but this is my brother. He's weak. He's a fool; completely incapable of doing anything without me. So please…'_

_Dumbledore sighs. 'Sirius, it is not a matter of if you can keep it secret but whether the Death Eaters will capture you before you can find Regulus. Don't forget that you have the Dark Mark on your arm. Once you step out of the protection of Grimmauld Place, you will be easily traceable to Voldemort. That's why I need you to stay for James and his family. Surely they are just as important.'_

_Sirius sees what Dumbledore is trying to do; he is trying to make Sirius choose between the lives of the two most important people in his life. He doesn't want to choose, but he has a feeling he doesn't have to. This conversation is only an illusion; Dumbledore has already made the decision for him._

' _Please…' Sirius tries hopelessly. He hates pleading. He has never pleaded his entire life for anything, not even when Mother had once cast the Cruciatus on him in anger. But now he wonders if he should go down on his knees._

_Dumbledore places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 'We will find him, I promise.'_

'Argh,' Sirius grunted, curling up into a ball. It hurt. It hurt so much that no matter how hard his knees pressed against his chest, the pain persevered. Intensified; gathering at his chest and clogging his throat, stinging his eyes, deafening him with the sounds of his own heartbeat. It hurt.

' _Let me see him,' Sirius swallows, closing the door to Regulus's room behind him. They mustn't see inside, his sleep deprived mind can advise him this much. They mustn't look into Regulus's room or for sure, Sirius will be put in places meant for mental cases. Sirius's isn't mental, but he's quite sure that he's slowly losing it._

' _Sirius, you know the answer to this,' Dumbledore replies. 'A little more time is all I ask. Until then, I need you to believe in me when I say that this will be over soon. Regulus is safe. He is alive.'_

' _You said barely,' Sirius protests, his thoughts moving in circles. 'If I'm there, he'll wake up. Regulus is like that; he can't do anything without me. I can fix him. You told me when you found him, he was…' Sirius can't begin to say it. Every time he thinks about it, a picture of Regulus forms in his head. A hideous picture where his brother is marred beyond belief and Regulus's eyes are dulled from the torture he's been put through. Sirius pictures Regulus lost and out of his reach. 'You told me that only because of Lily's-'_

_Dumbledore interrupts him with a hand of his shoulder. 'Soon, Sirius; but not now.'_

_And just like that, Sirius realises that it doesn't matter what decisions he makes or whether it is Voldemort or Dumbledore that he chooses. In the end, Sirius is always trapped. His rights become a privilege and he is weak, powerless, pathetic, and unable to do anything properly. Sirius also realises another thing: he cannot trust anyone; not Dumbledore, not James, not his brother, and mostly, not himself._

Sirius clutched Remus's shirt tightly, climbing on top of him in desperation; hoping that Remus would numb the pain for him. He could feel his breath shortening, turning into gasps as the air around him got short of oxygen. There were pins and needles invading his lungs; the pain so intense that he had to grind his teeth together to just keep from screaming.

It hurt. It hurt so much to remember Regulus's body at the hospital. It was as if nothing had happened at all. Regulus looked the same dead as he did when he was alive. So was he ever alive to begin with?

Sirius buried his face into Remus's neck and finally let it out. He screamed; screamed so loud that he couldn't hear anything but the hoarseness of his cries and feel Remus's monotonous pulse against his skin. Sirius screamed, nails digging into Remus's skin, knees pushing against Remus's thighs, in hopes that burying himself into him would bring Sirius relief. But Remus didn't understand. Remus didn't fight. Didn't hit or punch back. Didn't retaliate.

He lay there like a passive doll under Sirius, watching with frightening amber eyes. Even when Sirius's face leveled with him, noses touching, breaths mingling, Remus didn't so much as flinch. He watched like he understood Sirius, but he didn't. He didn't understand the pain, couldn't feel the same piercing agony Sirius thought was going to rip him inside out.

Tears pooled in Sirius's eyes, dripping drop by drop straight into Remus's eyes and clinging to his eyelashes. Remus blinked and the tears slid down to the side into the pillow. It looked as if Remus was the one crying.

Slowly, Remus's hand came up to wipe Sirius's eyes, travelling slowly down to the back of Sirius's neck, twirling Sirius's hair between his fingers, before closing the gap between them. Their lips touched gently, briefly, before Remus parted, leaving Sirius feeling empty. Remus didn't understand; Sirius was all alone now.

'Fuck me,' Sirius whispered, resting his head against Remus's forehead. 'Please…'

'No,' Remus replied blankly. 'No. If you're scared of the light, then close your eyes.'

* * *

'I hate this house,' Lily muttered, as she watched James take out the extra key to Grimmauld Place; a key he had taken without permission but had a feeling he would need sooner than later. 'I really hate this house.'

James pushed open the door quietly, stopping a crack before the door would start squeaking and wake up the old hag's portrait. It was unusually dark in the house; darker than usual considering it was a bright sunny day outside. It seemed almost like the partition between heaven and hell; as if this little door separated darkness from light. It was even more unusual to not have Kreacher running towards them with insults under his breath, but then again, James himself had witnessed Kreacher's breakdown after Regulus's news. It was very likely that Kreacher was still mourning in his little broken down cupboard. James always had doubts about Kreacher's mental stability; found him a hazard around Sirius who was already volatile, but Sirius refused to have him removed. James didn't question it, just like he never ever questioned Sirius's penchant for keeping dangerous things around him.

James was about to comment on how eerily quiet it was, when the air was pierced by the sounds of breaking glass. 'Too good to be true, I suppose,' James mumbled, looking at Lily. 'Don't go in – it will be a problem if that breaks,' James pointed at the urn holding Regulus's ashes. There had been no funeral because Sirius had adamantly refused one; no prayers because Sirius no longer believed in a God, and no burial because Sirius hadn't wanted Regulus to forever be caged in a dark place just like his older brother.

Lily looked as if about to protest, but held back, holding the urn close to her chest. 'I want to talk to Sirius again. I want to apologise and maybe…'

James sighed. 'It's not your fault. It's not any of our faults; just circumstances, I guess. You did what you could.' There was a loud ' _thunk_ ' sound, followed by an enraged yell, and James hurried his pace towards the study. 'I'll try and break things up. Don't come in until I tell you to, or you'll get hurt.'

'Sirius wouldn't hurt me…any of us,' Lily whispered, looking away.

James knew she was right, but ignored her and walked into the study.

He had guessed right of course; Sirius and Remus were fighting. No, Sirius was successfully provoking Remus; yelling obscenities and taunting him incessantly. The result was probably exactly what Sirius wanted: blackening bruises and swollen faces; blood from the cuts on their feet where Sirius had probably thrown family heirlooms in anger; and Remus's right hand pressing on the sides of Sirius's throat. Sirius was grinning, grey eyes glittering with madness beyond what James had ever seen. It was eerie because James realised this was getting serious; Sirius wanted this. He _wanted_  Remus to tighten his fingers.

It was that grin that made James want to run away and never come back. 'Sirius, we brought Regulus.'

Remus's fingers loosened and his eyes shifted defiantly to James's, as if challenging James to retaliate against him. He was panting, but his fists were closed in preparation for a fight, if James were to decide to come at him. James had no such intention. He looked at Remus briefly and then turned his attention to Sirius, who seemed a little surprised and a little annoyed at the same time.

'Lily's waiting outside,' James said brusquely, grabbing Sirius's wand from underneath an upturned table and passing it to him. 'Clean up before you go. You'll frighten her like this.'

Sirius nodded, eyes returning back to their cold, calm grey. 'What do you plan to do with Remus?'

James tried not to show the surprise on his face.

'Don't take me for a fool, Jamie-boy. Don't think I haven't noticed your change in attitude towards Remus. You have hidden intentions.' Sirius easily healed his bruising eye and the cut on his lip. 'Don't forget: he's mine. No matter how much you try to manipulate him, he'll come back to me. If you try to get rid of him, I'll kill you.'

'Don't,' Remus panted, standing up straight. 'Don't talk about me like I'm not here, you bastard!'

Sirius smirked and without another word, left. For a few seconds, silence prevailed and all James could hear were the sounds of Remus's furious breathing slowly coming to a calm. Remus wasn't even looking at James; staring down angrily at his bruised fists and grinding his teeth.

James walked up to him hesitantly. 'Sit down. I'll heal some of those for you.' He was surprised when Remus easily complied. For some reason, James had assumed that Remus would be a bit more suspicious of him or would dislike him, given the way James had been treating him up till now. James was still slightly hostile, Lily thought, but it wasn't for the lack of trying. James knew Remus was different, but to what extent was he different, was the real question.

'I hope Sirius hasn't been too much trouble,' James laughed bitterly when he realised what he'd said and the state of things. 'Sorry. I don't suppose he actually talks to you about anything, does he?' When Remus didn't reply, James sighed and continued, 'If I were to be honest, Regulus was never alive. They found him in the worst state possible – tortured, raped, and abandoned in a place where it was likely he was going to die in pain. It was retribution for defying Voldemort. He barely had a heartbeat.'

'He smelled,' Remus said softly, 'When I first saw him, he smelled of death…like…' He searched for the word. 'Like something…bad…old…'

The overwhelming guilt that welled up inside James pushed against his heart and the corner of his eyes. It hurt to have a stranger like Remus point such things out. 'Sirius had been locked up inside this house because of us back then; because he chose to protect us. He was desperate, but he kept his promise to me. There was no way Lily and I could send him his brother in that state.' James looked down, his fists clenching and unclenching. 'Lily came up with a potion that would prolong Regulus's life. He would be alive, but nothing beyond a still body. The potion stopped working yesterday.' James bit his lip under Remus's piercing gaze. 'Perhaps it wasn't the right thing to do, but at that time, we knew that Sirius couldn't handle Regulus's death. I suppose he still can't. I'm not telling you this to gain your sympathy or for you to look at Sirius any differently. There is no other way to look at Sirius and no way to understand him, but it seemed as if you wanted to know…' James finished truthfully.

'James?' Remus asked quietly. 'Have you ever been in Regulus's room?' When James frowned and shook his head, Remus looked torn between saying something and keeping quiet. 'On the walls…there are words…no, they're-' He bit his lip, then shook his head. 'It's nothing.'

James frowned. 'Remus, look, I've been meaning to ask you for some time now, but would you like to get out of this place even for a little while? I mean, Lily was saying that you could maybe work? I'll talk to Sirius. We'll keep you in the same office, so he shouldn't have a problem.' James looked away awkwardly under Remus's scrutinising gaze. He shouldn't have brought this up; not yet. It wasn't a good time, but looking at Remus's state under Sirius, James had felt a need to say it. 'It won't be much, but I can teach you a little magic and how to read…'

Remus watched quietly as James finished healing the last of his wounds. 'Will anyone get hurt if I come?'

James looked up and was suddenly caught by the depth of Remus's amber eyes. 'No.'

* * *

Sirius stared at the water, light blue ripples forming from where their feet were dipped. Remus was watching him, his legs fidgeting underwater, as if wondering whether to run. Remus had taken to being very cautious around Sirius, more so that before. Sirius assumed it had something to do with Regulus's death and whatever it was that James had talked about. When James had finally come out of the study that day, he had refused to look Sirius in the eyes and simply mentioned that they had something to discuss.

Sirius didn't like being treated that way. He didn't like secrets being kept from him by the very person he owned. He did not like the way Remus's hands became gentle sometimes nor the way his amber eyes softened to a light brown when looking at Sirius. Sirius did not appreciate such deceptive kindness.

'You should end it,' Remus said softly, hand reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind Sirius's ears.

Sirius didn't like the way Remus's fingers lingered, but he found it very difficult to move away. It wasn't normal. It wasn't normal for Sirius to feel the need for thin, gentle touches and warm amber eyes. It was  _unwanted._

Sirius let Regulus's ashes fall into the water. 'Perhaps if I had been a better brother and listened to him…' Sirius smiled bitterly. 'If I'd protected him a little more…' He shook his head absent mindedly. 'Do you like this place? It's quiet…very removed from the city. You should be familiar to it.' Sirius frowned slightly when Remus shook his head. Remus didn't remember. 'I felt you might enjoy the open sky and the forestry. I had promised to take you, after all.'

Remus stared at him for a while and then looked away. He watched Sirius through the distorted reflection on the water instead and sighed heavily. 'I don't understand,' he added, moving closer to the edge of the bank, so that the water surrounded his legs to his knees.

'What?'

'Sometimes,' Remus shifted, 'sometimes, you're kind. Sometimes,' he murmured glancing at Sirius through the corner of his eyes, 'I think it is okay to want you.'

Sirius stared, not sure what to say anymore. It was these things that confused him; these small things that Remus sometimes said that didn't fit. Why, why why?  _Why are you being like this_ , Sirius wanted to ask.  _If you were different, I wouldn't have to hurt you today._ Sirius didn't get why Remus found him difficult; Sirius was simple and predictable. He did things the way was taught time and time again; the right way; the Black way. It was Sirius who didn't understand Remus.

When Remus's hand reached out to touch his cheek, Sirius flinched. 'I hate you,' Remus whispered, lips brushing against his ear. 'I hate you, so…'

Sirius pressed his lips against Remus to shut him up. He didn't want to listen to anything Remus wanted to say. Remus's words were few, but overwhelming; Sirius should have never tried to have him talk. Sirius pulled Remus tighter against him, nibbling lightly at Remus's bottom lip before running his tongue over it.

'Hate is a good word,' Sirius breathed over Remus's lips, pushing Remus on his back into the grass. 'Your hate implies that I still own your thoughts and feelings.' Sirius gasped when Remus's knee brushed against his crotch. He wanted to touch more, wanted to feel more; mesh their bodies together until it was nothing but the brushing of skin and echoes of their blood pumping mad rhythms into their veins, and the surroundings becoming a blur of soundless colour.

It was unbearably hot.

It was distasteful; the way their limbs were tangled together, their hips sliding over each other. Like foolish, adolescent boys; Sirius was getting hot over the friction of cloth and the way Remus's arms wound tighter and tighter around him as he neared his climax; his tongue thrust harder; his cries got deeper.

Sirius felt as if he was choking.  _Save yourself,_  he thought,  _you still have time, so save yourself._ But Remus didn't listen, as he almost never did; and held Sirius tightly, still trembling slightly from his orgasm.

'Your dream,' Sirius started, shifting uncomfortably as he felt Remus's hot breath fanning against his neck. 'The reason you let yourself be locked up; you were searching for your parents, weren't you?' Remus looked up, his eyes suddenly wide. He looked like he wanted to say something, but wasn't sure what exactly to say. 'What if I told you that I found them?' Sirius asked, watching to see the change in expression on Remus's face as he said each word slowly.  _Save yourself._ 'What if I said I could take you to where they lived? Would you want to go?'

Sirius waited for Remus's reply. He hadn't intended to, but he waited anyway. Even though he already knew that Remus had fallen too far out of Sirius's control. He had become too simply complicated; too succumbed to his human side and too complacent with everything around him. No, he was becoming too unaffected and independent of Sirius.

Knowing all of this, Sirius waited. He waited till Remus nodded hesitantly, before apparating into the plot of land he'd visited many times over the week. It was slightly less green than the rest of the country side; the grass and trees there noticeable fewer and shorter. There were patches of dirt that were beyond growth – infertile from the damage it had suffered. It didn't look much different from its surroundings, but there was an air of foreboding to it – a sort of stench that marked an ominous history. It was empty.

'What is this?' Remus asked, his body starting to tremble; his fingers were shaking so hard they wouldn't even close to fists. 'What is this?' he asked again, the tremors spreading to his voice now, as he stared and stared and stared at the empty patch of land. 'I asked you, what this is!' Remus screamed, suddenly launching himself on Sirius and hoisting him up by the collars. 'Is this some kind of sick joke? Aren't you done playing with me already? So what the fuck is this?'

' _This_ is your family,' Sirius replied, staring down at Remus. This was what he wanted to see; this burning anger and betrayal. He wanted to see those cracks of anguish extending sharply in to the bright amber of Remus's eyes. 'The Death Eaters murdered them the same night they took you. You never had a family from the very beginning. Your dreams were just a joke – a last thread for you to hold on to so that you could have an excuse to stay alive. In truth,' Sirius dealt the finishing blow, 'you were  _always_ alone. So,' he looked away as Remus's grip loosened, hands falling to his sides and balling up to fists, 'so don't get close to anyone, not even James; don't trust anyone; and most of all, don't think you can control me with just a few whisper of words.  _You_  are mine.'

Sirius expected the strong blow to his face, Remus's knuckles hitting hard against his cheekbone. He reeled backwards, almost falling, but catching himself just in time. Sirius expected another blow, enraged fury, but was surprised as Remus's knees wobbled and finally gave out.

'Fuck you!' Remus whispered, fists pulling at the grass underneath him. 'Fuck you. I was such an idiot to think you were different. Fuck you.' Remus's voice broke and Sirius watched as transparent droplets of water rolled down his eyes to the bridge of his nose and finally fell to the ground like tiny raindrops at the beginning of a storm. They fell and fell and fell, but in a soundless static; it looked as if Remus had just burrowed into himself and fallen asleep.

He looked as if he'd stopped breathing and Sirus's heart suddenly clenched in fear. Sirius wanted to touch him. Sirius wanted to touch him and make sure he was still alive. And just as he was about to, Remus looked up, and Sirius's heart went into frenzy all over again. The amber eyes Sirius craved everyday were clouded over by welling tears, a red plague spreading across the whites of his eyes and bleeding beneath Remus's lashes till they carved in heavy bags. It hurt.

'They should die,' Remus spat through clenched teeth, 'the people who did this should all just fucking die.'

It hurt. It hurt like hot needles piercing into his soul and consuming him. It hurt; and suddenly Sirius realised he didn't want to do this anymore. He didn't feel as pleased as he had thought he would. He just felt tired; so very tired of everything.

It was unpleasantly painful to see Remus cry.

* * *

 


	7. Yellow Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius isn't mad. He's insane and it's gotten worse since Remus was brought in the picture. Now, James doesn't know who to save, as they spiral into darkness. But what James doesn't understand is, they don't need to be saved. They just need each other...

* * *

'I'm not going to hurt anybody.'

James looked at Remus and sighed. 'I know,' he replied, slightly loosening his death like grip on Remus's wrist. He noticed with a slight feeling of guilt that his fingers had left bright red indents on Remus's pale skin. 'I know you won't, but just…' James hesitated, looking around Diagon Alley randomly just to avoid having to meet Remus's odd amber eyes. 'Just give me some time, alright? I trust you, but I've never done this.' He ran a nervous hand through the back of his hair. 'I don't even know if I should be doing this.'

'You don't have to,' Remus replied simply.

It was the attitude he had, James noticed, with most things that were given to him. As if Remus wasn't used to the receiving the things James and most other people considered their birthright. Things like freedom of speech, a will of your own, or even sometimes, the need to breathe. Yet, perhaps because of this, Remus was sharp. He caught on to things quicker than most people and learned by observation alone. His stoic face betrayed no knowledge, but James had been monitoring and teaching Remus magic for the past week. Every morning, James would spend a good few hours showing Remus how to use a wand and how to create basic spells. It came as no surprise to James that Sirius had agreed to it; it meant that even the few hours Remus had had away from Sirius were reduced. It meant that Remus could be kept under constant watch and control.

James had seen Remus's potential. Unfortunately, so had Sirius...

'I  _want_ to. I can't explain it, but you're good and you work hard.' A few people in Flourish and Botts pointed at them and James realised how odd it must look for two grown men to be holding hands like this. 'Maybe it's because I didn't have very high expectation of you to start with. I just honestly wanted to get you out of that house before…'

'Before I kill Sirius?'

Again, James was struck by both Remus's insight and straight forwardness. 'Before both of you killed each other,' James replied slowly. 'I don't like that place. I've never liked it. I never will as long as that bleeding hag is around, which seems like forever given that disgusting portrait. I really…' James stopped mid rant. '…never mind. No matter what I say, Sirius will never throw it out.'

There was an awkward silence between then and James tried to distract himself my looking at Madame Malkin's wide array of robes. There was one that was a hideous orange with green stitched leaves all over the hem. The old, forgotten prankster inside James stirred slightly before James pushed it down.

'Has Sirius said anything to you lately?' James asked uncomfortably. What James really wanted to know was if Sirius has  _done_ anything; had hurt Remus in anyway, provoked him or done something utterly stupid like get him to transform without a full moon. What James really wanted to know was the extent of Sirius's instability and a reassurance that he could still trust his friend. That he wouldn't be forced to put Sirius in the mental ward at Mungo's; and that he could continue lying to himself that Sirius was still, more or less,  _fine._  Sirius  _was_  fine.

James was kidding himself; grasping at straws really. Sirius was completely unstable. No matter how much James blathered on about trusting Remus and wanting to give him a chance, the truth was that Sirius was the reason he was doing this. Sirius was the one who had cornered James in his office, eyes a shade of grey James had never seen. Undecipherable – not malicious, not evil, but almost as if they were trying to hide  _want._ He had whispered harshly into James's ear, ' _I want you to make him stronger. Have him fight back with more intensity; equip him so that he's unstoppable; give him the strength he needs, so that this time if he wants, he can end it._

A sick part of James wanted all this to end. He had agreed because that would have been the lesser of two evils. If he refused Sirius, it was very likely that Remus wouldn't last much longer. If he refused Sirius, it was also possible that Sirius would use James's family against him. Threaten him with Harry; throw him into a guilt trip with Lily: Sirius knew all his weaknesses. Sirius loved James's weaknesses – treated them like his own family and lavished them with gifts, but he also misused them when times called for it.

'He hasn't said anything,' Remus said softly, his eyes still wandering around Diagon Alley as if memorising the routes. James remembered that it was probably the first time Remus every stepped foot in a busy market place like this.

James breathed half a sigh of relief. He had expected differently, especially given how Sirius's insatiable hunger for Remus was growing like an obsession. A terrifying obsession that James wanted to put an end to.

'It's frightening,' Remus whispered, catching James off-guard. 'He ignores me and it's frightening.'

James frowned, trying to read Remus's face but not quite finding an answer in his twisted, crooked lips and the furrows of his eyebrows. 'I don't understand…'

'I-' Remus ran a hand through the short crops of his hair. 'He's only kind to me when he wants to be cruel.'

James froze.  _She's only kind to me when she wants to be cruel._  Hadn't Sirius confessed the same thing back in school about Walburga Black? Hadn't he? Or was it James's imagination playing tricks of déjà vu and Sirius-redemption. To show love only so that the hatred burned till they left deep scars of pain and anguish. James had almost forgotten about it.

'Remus,' James said softly, suddenly feeling horribly nauseous. 'If you ever wanted to leave…' He shook his head, dispelling the thoughts. It was a stupid idea. A stupid hope when in reality, Sirius was trying to control every aspect of Remus's life. Remus wasn't strong enough. 'Never mind. We're here.'

Remus looked up at the beige signboard, his eyes carefully following the cursive brown handwriting. 'Olive…Olive-an-'

' _Ollivander's Wands_ ,' James read out for him.

' _Ollivander's Wands_ ,' Remus repeated slowly to himself, enunciating every syllable. He was getting better at reading; though James still couldn't fathom where he had picked it up from. Had he known it from when he was human or learnt it during captivity?

'Morning, Mr. Potter,' Ollivander greeted as they walked in. 'Mr. Black mentioned you'd be stopping by.'

James nodded as a small gesture of understanding. He understood the undertones of the conversation. Sirius had specified Ollivander not to ask questions about Remus; perhaps threatened him, if James knew how Sirius dealt well enough. What had Sirius threatened with, James wondered? The taxes Ollivander's had skipped over the years; the illegal wand cores for his "privileged customers", or had Sirius just said James was on his way and known that he wouldn't have to say anymore. Sometimes, Sirius's name and presence was enough to get things done quickly.

James let go of Remus's wrist warily. 'Remus, just start with whatever wand calls out to you, alright?'

Remus nodded, reaching for the first wand that Ollivander handed out. The small shiver that passed through Ollivander when their fingers brushed briefly didn't escape James's notice. Ollivander was a man who understood the cores and flow of magic. Even if he didn't understand what Remus was, he knew when things weren't quite normal.

James moved backward slightly, expecting the jagged bolt of uncontrolled magic even before it shattered the nearest lamp to pieces. James had personally been training Remus for the past few days and nearly been injured twice from magical backlash. When Remus looked at him unsurely, he smiled reassuringly and nodded, gesturing him to take the next wand.

James moved further back when a bright red spark set Ollivander's register on fire. He sat down of the farthest sofa possible, his eyes brushing over the headlines on the newspaper resting on the sofa arm. 'I can't believe Rosier is dead after all these years,' James commented offhandedly. 'Killed by a heart attack; ridiculous! The man was like an ox.'

'I'm usually not the one to have an opinion, Mr. Potter,' Ollivander whispered quietly with slight animosity, 'but it's a well deserved death. It should have come sooner.'

James agreed completely, but had no intention of voicing his thoughts. He himself was part of a pureblood corporation; however different Sirius may be from the rest, he still worked in twisted ways. Also, James had a feeling Ollivander's hostility stretched farther than Rosier.

'I'm just surprised there isn't more concern raised about pureblood supremacy and their extinction. Times had truly changed, don't you think, Mr. Potter?'

James raised an eyebrow, feeling his muscles tighten. 'Why do you say that?' He honestly didn't want this conversation to go any further, for Ollivander's sake. James would never leak or mention anything, nor would Remus; but James couldn't guarantee Sirius's reach here. Especially when Remus was concerned.

'You've noticed, haven't you, Mr. Potter: the older generations of Pureblood have been disappearing after the war. Azkaban, political strife, falling empires, even ridiculous muggle diseases; you've got a good range of mishaps and bad luck…' Ollivander let it hang, almost as if implying something but not quite. James wasn't sure he understood and he didn't press the matter.

'Can I look?' Remus asked suddenly, breaking James out of his confusion.

'What?' James asked, frowning.

'The paper…' Remus's eyes fixated on the newspaper in James's hands. He didn't seem to care about the wands so much anymore. 'Can I look at the page you're reading?'

James shrugged and handed it over, noticing Remus hands starting to shake as his eyes skimmed over the fragments of words he probably understood. 'What's wrong?' When Remus didn't answer, James got up to touch him gently on the arm. 'Remus?'

Remus started. 'Nothing,' he shook his head and handed the paper back to James. 'I want to go home now.'

James blinked.

'Your wand's ready, Sir. Eleven inches, Rosewood; the core is a single strand of hair from a silverback werewolf – the rarest and most illegal kind we have.'

* * *

Remus was shaking, unable to comprehend anything.

He was too dumbstruck to move from where he was sitting on the floor, surrounded by newspapers dating back all the way to the time of war. Sirius's library had an archive of old newspapers, but it had taken Remus ages to find the right ones. The ones that he spent hours staring at, trying to match each word and each letter to the writings on the wall. They finally made sense. After weeks of staring and looking and trying to force the familiarity of speech, he finally figured out what the etchings on the wall meant.

They were names scratched out in hatred.

Names of Purebloods Ollivander had mentioned, ruined, killed and possessed to hell and back. Remus could read them clearly now; every single name of every single Death Eater. Some of them were repeated; like a mantra that kept resonating again and again until it stuck. Until all you could see were those names swimming in front of your eyes, unable to tell which were the real etchings and which were reflections of repetitions.

There were some that were brand new. Remus could tell by the sharp scent of new magic – the kind that had yet to fizzle and turn stale.

'So you know now. You really are quite the sharp one, aren't you?'

Remus turned to face Sirius in the doorway. He should have cleaned up. Remus should have moved away all this mess before Sirius came home, but a part of him wanted to confront Sirius. Wanted Sirius to explain these names and layers of hatred that built upon them; wanted to understand. More so, a part of him wanted Sirius to stop ignoring him so that Remus wouldn't have to be wary of every creak of the floorboard and every hum of the wind.

'Do you know who they are? Did you find that out, too?'

Remus nodded and then asked a question he already knew the answer to. 'Did you do this to them?'

'They killed my brother,' Sirius spat, as if it explained everything. It did.

Sirius walked to the wall, brushing past Remus like he was a ghost. His right hand lifted as if in a trance, fingers tracing the grooves of each name. Remus watched as Sirius's eyes shifted from anger to growing madness; his fists clenching over the etchings as if they could punch and beat his revenge just through these walls.

'He has a son,' Sirius whispered, eyes reflecting a single name, 'about Harry's age.'  _Lucius Malfoy._ 'He didn't deserve to live…'

'But you let him,' Remus completed, understanding – finally understanding something. Sirius was cruel, but not always. Sometimes Sirius didn't want to be like this. Sometimes, Sirius wanted to be not-cruel, but being that wasn't always enough. 'And these?' Remus asked softly, running his hands over the newer ones where the dust was yet to collect in the grooves. 'What about them?'

'They killed your family.'

Remus felt as if he'd been suddenly doused in cold water. 'You…'

_'They should die…the people who did this should all just fucking die.'_

It was Remus's fault. Remus had said this, hadn't he? He had asked and wished for all these people to be killed. When he'd been kneeling in front of what was once his home, all he'd wanted for was revenge; to be given justice for everything that had been cruel about his life. He had wanted their deaths; pleaded for it at that very moment in front of Sirius. Sirius, who Remus hated. Sirius, who Remus hated when he cut him with harsh words and quick throws of violence. Sirius, who Remus hated when he touched him with deft fingers and called out for him again and again when they had sex. Sirius, who Remus hated when he ignored him.

'Are you afraid of me now?' Sirius asked tilting his lips in a bitter smile. His eyes looked frightening where the sunlight hit, making it look more silver than grey – silver that burned Remus's skin.

'No.' Remus was happy. In a sick, twisted sort of way, Remus felt pleased that they were dead. He wanted them dead. 'No, I'm not afraid,' Remus repeated, looking at Sirius in the eye, holding his gaze as he reached out for Sirius. 'I'm not afraid.' Remus moved closer till their noses were brushing and the grey of Sirius's eyes were just a blur of colour. 'I'm not…' He pressed his lips softly against Sirius's, forcing Sirius's lips open with his own while pinning him by the wrists to hold him still. Remus pushed closer, his leg going in between Sirius's leg and brushing against Sirius's growing erection purposefully, in a familiar rhythm. Remus was feeding on the noises Sirius made and the quick catches of his breath every time their tongues collided. Remus was-

Sirius pushed him away roughly. 'You…' he growled. 'Why don't you resist anymore?'

Remus frowned.  _I don't know_ , he wanted to say.  _I don't know. I never know when it's you. I don't know._

'I asked you,' Sirius snarled angrily, grabbing Remus by the shoulder hard. 'Why the fuck won't you fight back?'

Remus's back collided with the wall, every groove of the scratched out names agonisingly pressing an imprint into his sore back. Remus flinched in pain and immediately, Sirius's hands moved away as if burnt. 'Fuck you,' he whispered, cradling his hands against his chest, as he moved away from a confused Remus. 'Fuck you! Don't fuck with me!' Sirius screamed suddenly, his face contorting in resentment and anger. 'Don't fuck with me, you bastard! Do what you're supposed to. Act how you're supposed to. Don't fuck with me.' Sirius punched the wall hard enough to send a crack down the weakening plaster. 'Fuck you, Remus!' He rotated his fists deeper into the wall, widening the crack in vengeance. 'Damn it.'

Sirius spared one distrustful glance at Remus before storming out.

Remus was left standing there in Regulus's room. The room that had long lost its owner, but accumulated years of anguish. It had held Sirius's vengeance for all these years, and now Remus realized with a sick feeling, it also held his. He was becoming a part of this room and a bigger part of this house. He was becoming yet another part of the Black madness that suffocated the very air that you breathed in this house. And suddenly, Remus  _was_ afraid.

Two hours past midnight, when Sirius had still not unlocked his door or come out of his room, Remus left for James's house. He had a feeling that James would probably be unable to help him, because Remus himself didn't know what he wanted. All he knew was that he didn't understand anything anymore, and the more blurred the edges of his sanity and awareness got, the harder his fear gripped him. Remus was very, very afraid.

* * *

James fidgeted with his hands unsurely, before taking a deep breath and opening the door to Sirius's office. 'Sirius, I need to talk to you.' He hesitated a little, eyes shifting from the burning fire in the room to the way Sirius's eyes scrutinised him carefully, probably taking in James's shiftiness and reluctance to be here. 'It's important,' he stressed, coming in and closing the door behind him with one last look outside, just to make sure. 'It isn't about work.'

'No?' Sirius asked, though it was quite obvious that he already knew. He moved his chair so that he was now face to face with James, chin resting on his hands and looking slightly disinterested.

'No,' James repeated. 'Look, Sirius, I should have had this talk with you a lot earlier, but I always stay quiet about…well, everything.' He sighed, and ran a hand through the back of his hair. 'I don't know why I go along with your madness and your will. I wanted to believe that you were the same person I'd gone to school with and played pranks with. I wanted to believe you were… _sane._ And I-'

'You're wasting my time, Jamie-boy,' Sirius droned.

James smiled bitterly. 'I'm having Remus leave.' A sort of stony silence followed James's declaration and James was honestly surprised to not have received a more violent reaction. Perhaps Remus had been right; Sirius was quickly getting bored of him. 'If you want to ruin your life, that's fine, but I'm not going to stand here and watch you destroy-'

James's words were knocked out of him as his back slammed hard against the wall, his head back lashing in tandem. Stars danced in front of his eyes and blearily, all he could make out was Sirius's face held back in an animalistic snarl.

'I'll kill you!' He growled, pinning James tightly against the wall. 'Another word and I'll kill you!'

'Go ahead,' James spat back, suddenly feeling all the years of anger he'd bottled up bubble forth. 'You've fucked up plenty, so why spare me, right?' He struggled against Sirius's tight hold on his forearms. 'No matter what you do, it's not going to change the fact that Remus is going to leave Grimmauld Place, sooner rather than later.'

Sirius's eyes bulged, the vein on his forehead throbbing dangerously. 'He's mine!' He screamed, suddenly grabbing James by the throat. 'He does what I want! He stays where I want! I am his world! Without me,' Sirius's grip tightened and James could feel Sirius's fingers digging painfully into his jugular. 'Without me, he would be nothing. He's mine! So don't fucking tell me what to do with him! I'll do whatever the hell I please! He's _mine!'_

Mad spittle flew across James's face and he could feel Sirius's madness through his fingers. Sirius was losing it; James realised. Sirius was very quickly losing it and if it wasn't for James's persistent fingers loosening Sirius's grip on his throat, James would die. James would definitely die – Sirius meant it. And just that realisation made James's blood boil. Was that it? All those years James had looked after him, taken care of him, tried and tried and tried to bring him back to what he used to be: did it all just end at that point where Sirius was willing to take James's life in a snap moment of madness. What had James been doing all these years? Why was it that Remus, who meant nothing; who knew nothing, was able to affect Sirius more than James? Why was it that Remus was the only person who could look past Sirius's cruelty and insanity, and bring forth a person James didn't even recognise? Why Remus? Why the fuck was it always Remus? And within all this, who was James?

'He hates you!' James found himself saying impulsively. He didn't mean to. In his head, there was a part of him that was pleading for him to stop; to just shut up before thing blew up in his face. But his mouth was running ahead of him and his annoyance clouding his judgment. 'Do you think I make it a fucking habit of saving all your victims?' He looked back defiantly at Sirius, watching as grey eyes blinked back in anger and shock. 'Remus asked this of me and you can fucking kill me at this point, but I'll help him, just to fucking spite you and break this bloody cycle of madness. Get it in your fucking head that he's going to lea-ugh!' James bowled over from sudden punch to his stomach, shocked when he felt the tangy taste of blood in his mouth.

'I'll kill you!' Sirius cried, an unexpected panic in his eyes. 'I'll kill you! I'll kill you! If you even touch a hair on his head, I'll kill you!' Sirius's face was turning steadily red now, his whole body shaking as if he'd been kept in ice cold water. 'He's mine. You can't do this to me, James. You can't do this. He's mine.'

James watched horrified as Sirius's whole body grew weak, his knees trembling until they gave away and he fell to James's feet. He was groveling, James realised, too scared now to even move. Sirius's breaths were coming out in short gasps, his body slowly curling in on itself until his forehead was touching the floor, his nose pressing into the cold marble. He was now pleading a mantra of,  _'He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine._ '

James couldn't move. 'Sirius, stop it.'

' _He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine._ '

'Sirius, stop it. Get up. You look ridiculous.'

' _He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine._ '

'Sirius!'

'HE'S MINE!' Sirius screamed breaking into a coughing fit, eyes shut and body tense before he laxed completely. Sirius didn't move after that, but there were tremors still running through his body, making his fingers jerk slightly.

Numb, James kneeled down beside him, gingerly touching Sirius's side and realising that Sirius had fallen unconscious. James felt sick. Sick and angry, but mostly so, so very sick. Sickened by what things had come to for him and Sirius, and sick of having to play mediator between Sirius and Remus's game of chess and manipulation. He looked towards the door and wasn't at all surprised to see it ajar, Remus standing behind it and partially visible. His face was an unreadable mask.

'Don't make me do this again,' James found his voice breaking and he quickly covered his eyes in fear that they would betray him. 'Don't ever fucking make me do this again.'

'I needed to be sure,' Remus replied, almost sounding apologetic.

'Will you really leave?'

'Yes.'

For some reason, the 'yes' sounded louder than it ought to, almost as if Remus had yelled it over a  _Sonorus._ It reverberated and pounded against his ear drums like a painful echo, until James realised the pain was not in his ears but somewhere around his chest. He didn't want this. James realised he wanted this, but he didn't want this. 'It will kill him,' James sounded his thought aloud, unable to even look at Sirius or even Remus. Hadn't James been pushing for this? From the very beginning, James had wanted this to an extent that was almost devious. 'Please, it will kill him.'

'I know,' Remus said softly and then added, almost as if as an afterthought, 'Sorry.'

* * *

It was cold and warm at the same time. Cold where there was wind hitting his face vengefully and where his bent knees and sprawled legs pressed against the wet grass. And warm where he could feel two arms underneath him, supporting him just barely. Warm also where another chest pressed against him, heart beating at a familiar pace. Seventy-two, seventy-three, seventy-four, seventy-five; Sirius counted. Seventy-five: slightly faster than the human heart rate to compensate for increased muscle power and strength. The body of a werewolf was truly beautiful. Sirius would know; he had felt it deep inside of him, over him, under him, embracing him so strongly that sometimes Sirius wished it would break his bones just a little.

'Leave,' Sirius whispered, not wanting to open his eyes; not wanting to find out where he was or what he was doing. He remembered being in the office; he remembered James's harsh words and severe truth. He remembered realising that this was exactly what he'd wanted. He had wanted Remus to kill him, hadn't he? That had been Remus's sole purpose of existence. Sirius's purpose had been to push Remus to it; yet, despite all of it, Sirius hadn't expected to also die inside.

'Before that,' Sirius felt Remus fidget, 'I want to ask why? What do you really want from me?'

'I want you to leave,' Sirius whispered, turning his face and realising that he could bury it into Remus's shoulder to protect from the wind that was steadily hitting his face. It wasn't that cold though, he thought. The wind was slowly growing warmer. 'If you leave, then I'll get everything I ever wanted…'  _and nothing at all,_ was what Sirius didn't add. 'Leave before I kill you.'

'You won't kill me.'

Sirius hated how confident he sounded; how Remus  _knew_  that Sirius was incapable of hurting him anymore. It felt disgusting; both Remus's knowledge and the feeling of sickness that clogged his throat every time Remus's hurt face flashed before his eyes. 'If I need to, I'll kill you. I no longer have any use for you.' Sirius wondered how cruel he sounded to Remus's ears. Would it wound Remus the way his parent's deaths had that day? Sirius kept his eyes closed, inhaling the smell of stale, polluted air to distract himself. Where were they?

'What did you want from me?'

'What did I want?' Sirius laughed, pressing his eyes into Remus's shoulder. It was so stupid; why was he seeking Remus's skin when all he wanted was for the bastard to leave so that he could be in peaceful turmoil all over again. 'What I wanted was for you to break.' Sirius's hands fisted into Remus's robes. 'I wanted you to crumble down to my level; live in disgrace and understand how no amount of revenge could get rid of your complete lack of power and the disgust you feel inside.' Sirius coughed again, suddenly feeling very suffocated and dizzy. 'I wanted you to take pity on my pathetic, meaningless existence and  _destroy_ it.'

Whatever Sirius expected Remus to say, never came. Sirius had wanted Remus to lash out one last time; to resist him just a little more.  _Just a little._

'I was happy,' Remus said finally, and Sirius could hear his heartbeat quickening slightly from nervousness.  _Seventy Six, Seventy Seven, Seventy Eight._ 'When I saw those names…I was happy.'

Sirius wasn't sure what Remus meant by that. Perhaps Remus felt vengeance was not as underrated as Sirius made it out to be, or that Sirius had failed to crush him despite everything he'd done. Or was it just as simple as the words that poured out of his mouth – that Remus had been happy over the deaths of his perpetrators. Somehow, just the thought that he had somehow pleased Remus pleased Sirius. It was _odd._

Sirius wondered why Remus was still here with him; prolonging the inevitable. The weather seemed to be changing, getting thicker and heavier. Would it be raining? Sirius wondered where he would find amber eyes again. He wondered if he looked one last time, just a little, at Remus's face; would that mean that he wasn't quite done yet. That he hadn't served justice to Regulus; hadn't been a good brother to James or a Godfather to Harry. Sirius didn't want to open his eyes; not yet. Not until he was sure Remus had left.

'Why me?'

Sirius took a sharp breath. 'I already answered that question.'

'No, you didn't,' Remus replied and Sirius could hear his voice hardening. 'Why did you choose to take me? There were two others that day. I was the weakest; the one that was going to die anyway. So why me?'

' _I don't know.'_  It was a lie. Sirius did know. He knew back then and he knew, more than ever, now. He knew it was because  _I wanted you._ And then suddenly, he felt very, very vulnerable and weak. More weak than he'd felt all these years and a lot more desperate for the feel of Remus's pale skin and the prickly crop of growing hair. 'Will you really leave?'

'I hate this house,' Remus replied, as if it was a good enough reason.

Somehow it was. 'There's no escaping it.' Sirius would know. Sirius had been trapped by it from the day he was born. The house that had Regulus, his Mother, his childhood; everything he'd worked to destroy and everything he'd tried to preserve through vengeance. This house was all Sirius had and would ever have.

'I hate this house,' Remus repeated, 'but I don't hate you.'

He had even failed to achieve that; Sirius was truly pathetic. 'You do hate me,' Sirius tried, wondering if there was any other way Remus thought of him. He wondered how else to occupy and monopolise Remus's thoughts. What would it take?

'I don't understand you.'

Sirius couldn't help the peals of laughter that bubbled inside him and burst out. 'Me neither,' he sniggered into Remus's chest uncontrollably. 'Me fucking neither.' And then he couldn't stop. Maybe it was the smell of the air – putrid and carbonated – that made him high. Maybe it was the fact that there were worse ways to die that being stabbed in the back or jabbed with a wand. Or maybe Sirius was just as James claimed: insane.

'I want you to leave…with me.'

Sirius stopped laughing.

'Will you? I want…..'

Whatever Remus wanted to say was lost in a shrill, high pitched scream that caused Sirius to shoot up in fright. Almost immediately, Remus's arms tightened around him, pulling him into a deadlock that stopped him from going anywhere. Sirius knew that scream – had practiced zoning it out for half his life and yearned for it another half. Sirius knew that scream, and this time, even before Remus could shield his eyes, Sirius slapped it away. He finally knew where they were.

Grimmauld Place was burning.

'NO!' Sirius screamed, trying to move; trying to get out, but Remus was holding him tight. 'NO! NO! NO! Let me go, you bastard! LET ME GO!' Sirius struggled again, trying to free his hands; kicking and screaming, wondering what spell would douse a fire this big. How long had it been going on for? Why hadn't he noticed it this entire time? The smell; the noxious clouds of smoke rising above the house and blanketing the sun. 'LET ME GO! Remus, please…please…oh God, please…!' Mother screamed again, sounding as if in true agony, and this time, Sirius felt tears pooling in his eyes. Regulus was in there, too. Mother and Regulus, both; only Regulus couldn't scream because he was dead. 'Please…please…please…'

'Leave with me,' Remus said gruffly, holding Sirius tightly against his chest, locking Sirius's feet with his own so that Sirius couldn't even kick anymore. 'James says…I'm in love with you.'

Sirius stopped struggling.  _Liar._

Remus wiped Sirius's cheeks roughly with the palm of his hand, before grabbing him by the chin and forcing Sirius to look into his eyes. Amber eyes that Sirius had wanted the minute he'd laid eyes on them; eyes that he'd drowned himself in when his mind felt like it was on a madhouse carousel; eyes that were now boring into him and forcing him to believe that he existed. He was here. He was here. Sirius was still here. Remus covered Sirius's eyes again, blocking out Grimmauld Place, the light, and everything else, but the touch of his hands. 'Leave with me,' Remus whispered again, this time, forcefully.

 _Leave and go where?_ Sirius didn't care anymore; he didn't have a choice. Mother had stopped screaming. He had nowhere else to go and no one else who wanted him. Numbly, he nodded.

Remus's hands slipped away from Sirius's eyes, but he kept his lock on Sirius's body so that they were sitting chest to back; Sirius's feet trapped between Remus's and Remus's arms tightly crossed around his chest. Sirius was being forced to watch Grimmauld Place burn to the ground until all that remained were ashes.

Remus smiled and rested his chin on Sirius's shoulder. 'You're mine.'

* * *

 


End file.
